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. — 


BOSTON  MONDAY  LECTURES. 

BY  JOSEPH  COOK. 


BIOLOGY.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events.  Three  Colored  Illustrations. 


12mo.  Sixteenth  thousand . $1.50 

TRANSCENDENTALISM.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events.  12mo.  Tenth 

thousand . 1.50 

ORTHODOXY.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events.  Seventh  Thousand  .  .  1.50 
CONSCIENCE.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events.  Fifth  Thousand  «  .  1.50 

HEREDITY.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events  . . 1.50 

MARRIAGE.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events . 1.50 

LABOR.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events . 1.50 

SOCIALISM.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events . 1.50 

OCCIDENT.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events.  (A  new  volume)  ....  1.50 

ORIENT.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events.  (A  new  volume  with  Portrait)  .  .  1.50 


“  I  do  not  know  of  any  work  on  Conscience  in  which  the  true  theory  of  ethics  is  so 
clearly  and  forcibly  presented,  together  with  the  logical  inferences  from  it'in  support  of  the 
great  truths  of  religion.  The  review  of  the  whimsical  and  shallow  speculations  of  Matthew 
Arnold  is  especially  able  and  satisfactory.”  —  Professor  Francis  Bowen,  Harvard  Univer¬ 
sity. 

“These  Lectures  are  crowded  so  full  of  knowledge,  of  thought,  of  argument,  illumined 
with  such  passages  of  eloquence  and  power,  spiced  so  frequently  with  deep-cutting  though 
good-natured  irony,  that  I  could  make  no  abstract  from  them  without  utterly  mutilating 
tliem.” —  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Hill,  ex- President  of  Harvard  University ,  in  Christian  Register. 

“Joseph  Cook  is  a  phenomenon  to  be  accounted  for.  No  other  American  orator  lias 
done  what  he  has  done,  or  any  tiling  like  it;  and,  prior  to  the  experiment,  no  voice  wouid 
have  been  bold  enough  to  predict  its  success.”  — Rev.  Professor  A.  P.  Peabody  of  Harvard 
University. 

“  Mr.  Cook  is  a  specialist.  His  work,  as  it  now  stands,  represents  fairly  the  very  latest 
and  best  researches.” —  George  M.  Beard,  M.D.,  of  New  York. 

“By  far  the  most  satisfactory  of  recent  discussions  in  this  field,  both  in  method  and 
execution.”  —  Professor  Borden  P.  Bowne  of  Boston  University. 

“  Mr.  Cook  is  a  great  master  of  analysis.  He  shows  singular  justness  of  view  in  his 
manner  of  treating  the  most  difficult  and  perplexing  themes .—  Princeton  Review. 

“The  Lectures  are  remarkably  eloquent,  vigorous,  and  powerful.”  —  R.  Payne  Smith , 
Dean  of  Canterbury. 

“They  are  wonderful  specimens  of  shrewd,  clear,  and  vigorous  thinking.”  —  Rev.  Dr. 
Angus ,  the  College,  Regent's  Park. 

“These  are  very  wonderful  Lectures.”  —  Rev.  C.  H.  Spurgeon. 

“Traversing  a  very  wide  field,  cutting  right  across  the  territories  of  rival  specialists,  the 
work  on  Biology  contains  not  one  important  scientific  misstatement,  either  of  fact  or 
theory.”  —  Bibliotheca  Sacra. 

“  Vigorous  and  suggestive.  Interesting  from  the  glimpses  they  give  of  the  present  phases 
of  speculation  in  what  is  emphatically  the  most  thoughtful  community  in  the  United 
States.”  —  London  Spectator. 

“  I  admired  the  rhetorical  power  with  which,  before  a  large  mixed  audience,  the  speaker 
knew  how  to  handle  the  difficult  topic  of  biology,  and  to  cause  the  teaching  of  German 
philosophers  and  theologians  to  be  respected.”  —  Professor  Schoberlein,  of  Gottingen  Uni¬ 
versity. 

“  His  object  is  the  foundation  of  a  new  and  true  metaphysics  resting  on  a  biological  basis, 
that  is  the  proof  of  the  truth  of  philosophical  theism,  and  of  the  fundamental  ideas  of 
Christianity.  These  intentions  he  carries  out  with  a  full,  and  occasionally  with  a  too  full, 
application  of  his  eminent  oratorical  talent,  and  with  great  sagacity  and  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  leading  works  in  physiology  for  the  last  thirty  years.”  —  Professor  Ulrici, 
University  of  Halle,  Germany. 


HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO.,  Publishers. 


Boston  Monday  Lectures. 


conscience, 

WITH  PRELUDES  ON  CURRENT  EVENTS. 


J 

By  JOSEPH  COOK. 


“  Ethical  science  now  teaches  not  so  much  that  man  has  conscience, 
is  that  conscience  lias  man/’  —  Dorner. 


TENTH  EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY. 

New  York:  11  East  Seventeenth  Street. 

Camfcri&ge. 

1887. 


Copyright,  1878, 

By  JOSEPH  COOK. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press ,  Cambridge  : 
Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &  Company. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  object  of  the  Boston  Monday  Lectures  is  to  present  the 
results  of  the  freshest  German,  English,  and  American  scholar¬ 
ship  on  the  more  important  and  difficult  topics  concerning  the 
relation  of  Religion  and  Science. 

They  were  begun  in  the  Meionaon  in  1875 ;  and  the  audiences, 
gathered  at  noon  on  Mondays,  were  of  such  size  as  to  need  to  be 
transferred  to  Park-street  Church  in  October,  1876,  and  thence  to 
Tremont  Temple,  which  was  often  more  than  full  during  the  win¬ 
ter  of  1876-77,  and  in  that  of  1877-78. 

The  audiences  contained  large  numbers  of  ministers,  teachers, 
and  other  educated  men. 

The  thirty-five  lectures  given  in  1876-77  were  reported  in  the 
Boston  Daily  Advertiser,  by  Mr.  J.  E.  Bacon,  stenographer;  and 
most  of  them  were  republished  in  full  in  New  York  and  Lon¬ 
don.  They  are  contained  in  the  first,  second,  and  third  volumes  of 
“  Boston  Monday  Lectures,”  entitled  “  Biology,”  “  Transcendent¬ 
alism,”  and  “  Orthodoxy.” 

The  lectures  on  Biology  oppose  the  materialistic,  and  not  the 
theistic,  theory  of  evolution. 

The  lectures  on  Transcendentalism  and  Orthodoxy  contain  a 
discussion  of  the  views  of  Theodore  Parker. 

The  thirty  lectures  given  in  1877-78  were  reported  by  Mr.  Bacon, 
for  the  Advertiser,  and  republished  in  full  in  New  York  and  Lon¬ 
don.  They  are  contained  in  the  fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth  volumes  of 
“Boston  Monday  Lectures,”  entitled  “  Conscience,”  “Heredity,” 
and  “Marriage.” 

In  the  present  volume  some  of  the  salient  points  are :  — 

1.  The  definition  of  conscience  as  “  that  which  perceives  and 
feels  rightness  and  obligatoriness  in  choices  ”  (p.  17). 

v 


INTRODUCTION. 


vi 


2.  A  fuller  definition  (p.  25),  together  with  a  distinction  be 
tween  what  conscience  includes  and  what  it  implies  (pp.  25-28). 

3.  A  study  (in  Lectures  II.  and  III.)  of  the  relations  of  ethical 
and  biological  science,  or  of  the  effect  of  the  approval  and  dis¬ 
approval  of  conscience  upon  the  countenance  and  gesture. 

4.  A  reply  (in  Lectures  IV.,  V.,  and  VI.)  to  the  agnosticism  of 
Matthew  Arnold. 

5.  A  criticism  (in  Lecture  VI.)  of  the  positions  of  Mansel  as  to 
the  definitions  of  the  infinite  and  absolute. 

6.  A  consideration  (in  Lectures  VII.  and  VIII.)  of  conscience 
as  the  foundation  of  the  religion  of  science. 

7.  A  series  (in  Lectures  IX.  and  X.)  of  literary  illustrations  of 
conscience  from  Victor  Hugo  and  Shakspeare. 

The  theory  as  to  conscience  advanced  in  these  lectures  is  in  gen¬ 
eral  accord  with  the  ethical  school  represented  by  Kant,  Dugald 
Stewart,  Price  and  Edwards,  and,  among  later  German  writers, 
by  Lotze,  Wutke,  Hofmann,  Ulrici,  and  Rothe.  It  emphasizes 
that  view  of  the  moral  faculty  which  materialism  opposes,  but 
which  is  admitted  to  have  had,  from  Plato’s  time  to  the  present, 
the  greatest  number  of  scholarly  adherents.  The  peculiarity  of 
the  volume  is  in  the  use  made  of  the  most  recent  biological  science. 

A  consideration  of  the  origin  of  conscience  will  be  found  in  the 
lectures  on  Heredity. 

The  committee  having  charge  of  the  Boston  Monday  Lectures 
for  the  coming  year  consists  of  the  following  gentlemen :  — 


His  Excellency  A.  H.  Rice,  Governor 
of  Massachusetts. 

Hon.  William  Claflin,  Ex-Governor 
of  Massachusetts. 

Prof.  E.  P.  Gould,  Newton  Theologi¬ 
cal  Institution. 

* 

Rev.  William  M.  Baker,  D.D. 

Rev.  William  P.  Warren,  D.D.,  Bos¬ 
ton  University. 

Prof.  L.  T.  Townsend,  Boston  Univer¬ 
sity. 

E.  M.  McPherson. 

Robert  Gilchrist. 

Prof.  George  Z.  Grat,  D.D.,  Episco¬ 
pal  Theological  School,  Cambridge. 


Prof.  Edwards  A.  Park,  D.D.,  An. 

dover  Theological  Seminary. 

Right  Rev.  Bishop  Paddock. 

Prof.  E.  N.  Horsford. 

Hon.  Alpheus  Hardy. 

Rev.  J.  L.  Withrow,  D.D. 

A.  Bronson  Alcott. 

Russell  Sturgis,  Jr. 

Right  Rev.  Bishop  Foster. 

Reuben  Crooke. 

Samuel  Johnson. 

William  B.  Merrill. 

Prof.  B.  P.  Bowne. 

M.  R.  Deming,  Secretary. 

B.  W.  Williams,  Financial  Agent. 


HENRY  F.  DURANT,  Chairman 


PUBLISHERS’  NOTE. 


In  the  careful  reports  of  Mr.  Cook’s  Lectures  printed 
in  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser,  were  included  by  the 
stenographer  sundry  expressions  (applause,  &c.)  indicat¬ 
ing  the  immediate  and  varying  impressions  with  which  the 
Lectures  were  received.  Though  these  reports  have  been 
thoroughly  revised  by  the  author,  the  publishers  have 
thought  it  advisable  to  retain  these  expressions.  Mr. 
Cook’s  audiences  included,  in  large  numbers,  representa¬ 
tives  of  the  broadest  scholarship,  the  profoundest  philoso¬ 
phy,  the  acutest  scientific  research,  and  generally  of  the 
finest  intellectual  culture,  of  Boston  and  New  England ; 
and  it  has  seemed  admissible  to  allow  the  larger  assembly 
to  which  these  Lectures  are  now  addressed  to  know  how 
they  were  received  by  such  audiences  as  those  to  which 
thev  were  originally  delivered. 


CONTENTS. 


LECTURES. 

PAGE 

I.  Unexplored  Remainders  in  Conscience  ...  3 

n.  Solar  Self-Culture . 35 

III.  The  Physical  Tangibleness  of  the  Moral 

Law . 61 

IV.  Matthew  Arnold’s  Views  on  Conscience  .  .  87 

V.  Organic  Instincts  in  Conscience . 117 

VI.  The  First  Cause  as  Personal . 143 

VII.  Is  Conscience  Infallible  ? . 171 

VIII.  Conscience  as  the  Foundation  of  the  Reli¬ 
gion  of  Science . 201 

IX.  The  Laughter  of  the  Soul  at  Itself  .  •  .  229 

X.  Shakspeare  on  Conscience . 255 

PRELUDES. 

PAGE 

I.  Insurrections  of  Hunger .  5 

II.  Bachelor  and  Family  Wages . 35 

III.  English  Precedents  in  Civil-Service  Reform  61 

IV.  The  Duties  of  Opulence  to  Missions  ....  87  v 

V.  Enfranchised  Ignorance  in  the  South  .  .  .  117 

VI.  Indigent  Infidelity . 143 

VII.  California  as  the  Door  to  China . 171 

VIII.  Free  Tabernacles  in  Great  Towns  ....  201 

IX.  Magdalen  in  Cities . 229 

X.  Young  Men  in  Politics .  255  * 

ix 


L 


UNEXPLORED  REMINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE. 


THE  EIGHTY-FIRST  LECTURE  IN  THE  BOSTON  MONDAY 
LECTURESHIP,  DELIVERED  IN  TREMONT  TEMPLE, 

OCT.  1. 


Zwei  Dinge  erfiillen  das  Gemiith  mit  immer  neuer  nnd  zuneh 
mender  Bewunderung  und  Ehrfurcht,  je  ofter  und  anhaltender  sich 
das  Nachdenken  damit  beschaftigt:  der  bestirnte  Himmel  iiber  mir, 
v/  und  das  moralische  Gesetz  in  mir.  — Kant:  Sdmmtliche  Werke ,  ed. 
Hartenstein,  v.  167. 


Kant’s  “two  things  that  strike  me  dumb;  ” — these  are  perceptible 
at  Konigsberg  in  Prussia,  or  at  Charing  Cross  in  London.  And  all 
eyes  shall  yet  see  them  better;  and  the  heroic  Few,  who  are  the  salt 
of  the  earth,  shall  at  length  see  them  well.  —  Carlyle:  Shooting 
Niagara:  and  after?  vi. 


CONSCIENCE. 


i. 

UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CON¬ 
SCIENCE. 

PRELUDE  ON  CURRENT  EVENTS. 

In  the  year  1877  America  has  seen  her  first,  but 
probably  not  her  last,  insurrection  of  hunger.  Low- 
paid  labor  has  at  least  occasionally  not  had  enough 
to  eat ;  and  therefore  a  thin  flame  of  fire  burst  out 
of  the  hitherto  rarely  ruptured  social  soil  on  a  line 
extending  from  Baltimore  to  San  Francisco.  This 
ominous,  wavering,  but  intense  radiance  rose  from  a 
fruitful,  a  largely  unoccupied,  and  a  monumentally 
unoppressed  country.  Our  cities  gather  to  them¬ 
selves  the  tramps,  the  roughs,  and  the  sneaks ;  several 
of  them  contain  organized  bands  of  emigrant  com¬ 
munists  ;  and  this  loose  material  caught  fire  when  the 
sudden  flame  shot  up  from  the  volcanic  crevice.  We 
were  not  very  swift  in  putting  down  the  conflagra¬ 
tion.  It  happens,  therefore,  that  in  a  land  which  has 

3 


4 


CONSCIENCE. 


twice  been  washed  in  blood,  and  was  an  hundred 
years  old,  society  suffered  painfully  for  several  weeks, 
from  a  wide-spread  strike  of  railway  laborers,  a 
riot  of  roughs  and  sneaks,  and  an  inefficient  self- 
defence.  We  are  all  agreed  that  it  takes  two  to  make 
a  bargain ;  and  even  low-paid  labor  occasionally  for¬ 
got  that  first  principle  of  social  science.  The  chief 
trouble  came,  however,  not  from  the  workingmen, 
and  not  from  the  real  princes  of  capital,  but  from 
second-rate  business  managers,  who  hardly  know  how 
to  make  a  fortune  except  by  cut-throat  competition. 

How  many  railways  of  this  country  are  in  receiv¬ 
ers’  hands?  We  talk  of  various  cures  for  the  ills  of 
our  railway  strikes ;  but  is  not  one  of  the  most  prac¬ 
tical  remedies  a  requisition  by  law  that  every  railway 
corporation,  and  every  moneyed  company  that  is  in 
debt  and  yet  in  receivers’  hands  and  in  business, 
shall  be  compelled  to  lay  aside  at  least  one  per  cent 
of  its  income  as  a  sinking  fund  to  pay  its  debt?  We 
must  in  some  way  insist  upon  it,  that  unprincipled 
competition  shall  not  grind  the  faces  of  the  poor. 
Your  Vanderbilt  did  not  grind  those  faces.  I  do  not 
know  that  Thomas  Scott  did ;  however,  I  think  he 
is  paid  a  large  salary  not  for  his  knowledge  of  legiti¬ 
mate  railroading,  but  for  his  knowledge  of  illegiti¬ 
mate  railroading.  No  railway  deserves  to  succeed 
whose  managers  would  tremble  if  their  ledgers  were 
turned  inside  out  and  read  by  the  whole  American 
people.  Here,  for  instance,  are  two  railway  compa¬ 
nies,  each  containing  a  dozen  men.  A  majority  in 
each  company  secretly  arrive  at  an  understanding 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  5 


with  each  other.  They  form  in  fact,  though  not  in 
name,  a  third  company.  That  third  collection  of 
managers  owns  no  railroads ;  but  it  has  a  majority  in 
two  companies  that  do  own,  perhaps,  competing  lines. 
By  making  a  ring,  they  can  turn  aside,  for  a  time,  to 
their  own  uses,  a  very  large  part  of  the  profits  of 
both  these  railway  companies.  The  conspirators  have 
not  a  wheel,  they  have  not  a  track,  of  their  own ;  but 
they  put  into  their  pockets  a  lion’s  share  of  the  pro¬ 
ceeds  of  the  companies  in  which  they  have  a  majority. 
They  place  profits  on  board  one  car,  and  turn  this  off 
upon  a  side  track ;  and,  when  the  train  of  their  enter¬ 
prise  reaches  the  station  farther  on,  they  announce 
that  there  is  nothing  left  for  the  stockholders ;  and 
of  course,  if  stockholders  suffer,  workingmen  must. 

Mines  and  factories  and  railways  are  likely  to  be 
heard  of  in  the  maturity  of  the  American  republic, 
not  as  loudly,  but  perhaps  as  pointedly,  as  the  cot¬ 
ton-field  and  the  rice-swamp  were  in  its  infancy.  As 
the  Old  World  has  had  peril  enough  from  industrial 
questions  to  make  already  classic  much  of  the  litera¬ 
ture  of  the  conflict  between  labor  and  capital,  this 
New  and  young  World  does  not  act  unwisely  in  turn¬ 
ing  attention,  with  all  the  power  of  American  con¬ 
scientiousness  and  shrewdness,  upon  the  inquiry, 
What  are  comfortable  wages,  and  how  can  they  be 
paid  ?  Is  it  possible  to  arrive  at  a  definition  of  star¬ 
vation  wages  ? 

Suppose  that  a  man  were  to  put  forward  the  prop¬ 
osition  that  any  thing  less  than  twice  the  cost  of  the 
uncooked  food  for  a  family  containing  several  small 


6 


CONSCIENCE. 


children  is  starvation  wages  to  the  unassisted  fathei 
of  that  family,  would  you  think  such  a  position  very 
heretical  ?  Regard  for  a  moment  the  perplexities  of 
low-paid  labor.  After  all,  the  pulpit  has  the  right, 
and  the  platform,  —  especially  if  it  be  as  free  as  this 
one,  —  at  least  this  will  take  the  privilege  of  looking 
into  the  vexed  arithmetic  of  the  very  poor.  A  man 
has  in  his  family  a  wife  and  three  children.  He 
must  therefore  feed  five  mouths.  What  do  you  pay 
for  your  board  each  week  ?  Five  dollars,  perhaps, 
and  it  is  not  very  good  at  that.  What  could  you  get 
the  bare  food  for,  without  any  charges  for  cooking  or 
rent?  Three  dollars?  Two  and  a  half?  Two?  I 
should  not  like  to  live  and  do  hard  work  ten  hours  a 
day  on  food  that  cost  less  than  two  hundred  cents  a 
week,  or  twenty-nine  cents  a  day.  You  would  not. 
But  I  am  at  the  head  of  a  family ;  and  my  wife  has 
only  health  enough  to  cook  the  food,  and  take  care 
of  the  children  and  the  house.  She  really  earns 
nothing  except  in  acting  as  a  housekeeper  and  as  a 
mother  to  my  children,  —  there  are  three  of  them,  — 
and  now  I  must  maintain  five  persons.  Food  cer¬ 
tainly  cannot  keep  soul  and  body  together,  and  cost 
less  on  the  average  than  a  dollar  a  week.  I  must 
starve,  or  have  five  dollars  a  week  for  the  uncooked 
food  of  my  family.  How  much  do  I  earn  a  day  ?  A 
dollar,  without  board.  My  children  cannot  earn  any 
thing.  If  I  obtain  work  every  day,  I  have  at  the 
end  of  the  week  a  dollar  left  to  pay  for  rent  and 
every  thing  else.  Is  it  hard  times  with  my  family  ? 
The  children  must  have  shoes,  or  they  will  be  hooted 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  7 


at  in  the  street  when  they  go  to  the  public  school. 
America  is,  indeed,  kind.  She  opens  the  school  to  the 
poor.  But  I  ought  to  be  able  to  put  shoes  on  the  feet 
of  my  children ;  and  yet  I  cannot  always  put  coats 
on  their  backs,  nor  even  can  I  have  ragged  calico  for 
my  babes  at  times,  for  I  have  but  a  dollar  a  day,  and 
they  can  earn  nothing,  and  my  wife  is  a  little  ill. 
But  I  must  send  my  children  to  school,  or  I  drop 
to  a  lower  social  scale.  My  children  ought  to  go 
to  church,  but  they  have  nothing  to  wear.  I  ought  to 
send  my  wife  to  church ;  I  ought  to  go  myself ;  and 
I  am  not  to  be  excused  for  keeping  away,  because  it 
would  be  better  for  me  if  conscientiousness  were  dif¬ 
fused  throughout  the  community,  and  I  know  that 
one  great  object  of  the  church  is  to  diffuse  conscien¬ 
tiousness,  in  order  that  property  may  be  safely  dif¬ 
fused.  I  ought  to  be,  with  my  brethren  of  the 
laboring  class,  in  God’s  house  every  sabbath  day; 
and  I  ought  to  be  there  with  my  children.  But  I 
must  pay  five  dollars  a  week  for  the  food  of  my  fam¬ 
ily  ;  and  I  earn  but  a  dollar  a  day  or  a  little  more,  — • 
some  of  my  brethren  earn  but  ninety  cents,  —  and  I 
work  but  six  days  in  the  week.  I  want  to  get  my 
children  a  few  school-books.  I  ought  to  take  a  news¬ 
paper.  There  must  be  now  and  then  a  doctor’s  bill 
paid.  I  must  have  a  little  coal  in  the  winter ;  and  it 
is  not  possible  for  me  to  buy  it  as  the  millionnaire 
does,  in  great  quantites :  I  must  buy  it  by  the  bas¬ 
ket,  and  my  wood  in  little  parcels.  And  it  is  hard 
times.  I  have  just  been  dropped  from  employment. 
There  is  often  not  much  for  me  to  do.  I  cannot  al 
ways  find  work  six  days  of  the  week. 


8 


CONSCIENCE 


Undoubtedly  there  are  some  corporations  that 
have  paid  as  wages  more  than  they  have  received  as 
profits.  Workingmen  have  occasionally  been  retained 
in  place  at  a  temporary  loss  to  their  employers.  But 
supply  and  demand  are  the  law  of  business,  and  I  am 
discussing  the  dull  average  sky  of  low-paid  labor 
under  that  rule,  and  not  the  starry  exceptions. 

I  sat  in  a  parlor  beyond  the  Mississippi,  with  two 
leaders  of  business,  one  of  them  a  millionnaire,  and 
the  other  nearly  such,  and  we  added  up  the  necessary 
expenses  of  a  family  of  five,  in  which  children  are 
supposed  to  be  too  young  to  labor  remuneratively ; 
and  we  found  that  such  a  family  could  not  very  well 
live  through  a  year  respectably  in  our  climate,  and 
according  to  the  standard  of  the  workingmen  of 
America,  if  the  father  is  their  only  support,  and  is 
paid  less  than  ten  or  twelve  dollars  a  week.  The  low- 
paid  laborer  often  has  wages  that  are  less  than  six 
hundred  dollars  a  year.  Your  Massachusetts  Bureau 
of  Labor  in  1875  published  a  large  collection  of  de¬ 
tails  from  the  life  of  families  in  this  Commonwealth, 
and  asserted  that  44  the  fact  stands  out  plainly,  that 
the  recipient  of  a  yearly  wage  of  less  than  six  hun¬ 
dred  dollars  must  get  in  debt.”  QPub.  Doc.  No.  31, 
1875,  p.  380.)  I  know  how  high  wages  often  are  in 
the  ranks  of  skilled  labor;  but,  as  John  Bright  used 
to  say,  4 4  the  nation  lives  in  the  cottage.”  I  under¬ 
take  to  maintain  here  in  Boston,  where  heresies  are 
popular,  the  astounding  proposition,  that  if  the  un¬ 
assisted  father  of  a  family  of  three  children  who  can¬ 
not  labor  remuneratively  is  paid  no  more  than  twice 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  9 


the  cost  of  the  unprepared  food  for  his  family,  he  is 
on  starvation  wages. 

THE  LECTURE. 

When  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge,  the  poet,  was  a 
poor  boy  and  a  charity-scholar  in  London,  he  was 
one  day  walking  along  the  Strand,  at  an  hour  during 
which  the  streets  were  crowded,  and  was  throwing 
out  his  arms  vigorously  toward  the  right  and  the  left. 
One  of  his  hands  came  into  contact  with  a  gentleman’s 
waistcoat-pocket ;  and  the  man  immediately  accused 
the  boy  of  thievish  intentions.  “  No,”  said  Coleridge, 
“I  am  not  intending  to  pick  your  pocket.  I  am 
swimming  the  Hellespont.  This  morning  in  school 
I  read  the  story  of  Hero  and  Leander,  and  I  am 
now  imitating  the  latter  as  he  swims  from  Asia  to 
Europe.”  The  gentleman  was  so  much  impressed 
by  the  vividness  of  the  imagination  of  the  lad,  that 
he  subscribed  for  Coleridge’s  admission  to  a  public 
library,  which  began  the  poet’s  education.  The  be¬ 
ginning  of  all  clearness  on  the  multiplex  topic  of 
Conscience  is  to  make  a  distinction  between  picking 
a  pocket  and  swimming  the  Hellespont.  [Applause.] 
The  external  act  may  be  precisely  the  same,  although 
the  inner  intentions  differ  by  celestial  diameters.  It 
is  natural  to  man,  however  he  obtained  the  capacity, 
to  make  a  distinction  between  meaning  right  and 
meaning  wrong.  Not  only  did  this  gentleman  and 
the  poet-boy  not  stop  on  the  Strand  to  settle  the 
question  whether  the  intuitional  or  the  associational 
theory  in  ethics  is  correct,  but  the  urchin,  coasting 


10 


CONSCIENCE. 


down  the  long  mall  of  Boston  Common,  would  not 
stop  for  that  purpose,  were  he  struck  by  some  care- 
less  coachman  with  the  lash.  He  would  look  up,  and 
immediately  ask,  “  Did  you  mean  to  do  that  ?  ”  And 
if  he  sees  that  it  was  the  result  of  accident,  he  ex¬ 
cuses  the  coachman ;  but  if  he  finds  that  the  coach¬ 
man  meant  mischief,  he  accuses  him  accordingly. 
Horace  represents  the  children’s  games  at  Borne,  as 

proceeding  according  to  the  laws  of  conscience  .  — 

* 

“  Pueri  ludentes,  Rex  eris,  aiunt 
Si  recte  facies.” 

Epist.,  lib.  i.  Ep.  i.  59. 

Just  so  the  babe  that  cannot  speak,  building  its  card- 
house  on  your  parlor-carpet,  will  look  up  when  you 
trample  down  its  castle,  and  ask,  not  verbally,  but 
by  action,  whether  you  meant  to  do  that ;  and  if  it 
ascertains  that  you  did  not,  you  will  be  excused ;  but 
if  you  intended  to  destroy  the  work  of  the  babe,  that 
untutored  human  constitution  will  re-act  against  you. 
This  babe,  building  its  card-castle,  has  not  been 
evolved  very  far  in  human  experience.  It  has  not 
had  a  long  time  in  which  to  develop,  by  considering 
questions  of  utility,  a  tendency  to  notice  the  differ¬ 
ence  between  meaning  right  and  meaning  wrong,  and 
to  make  a  distinction  between  the  outward  act  and 
the  inner  intention.  However  it  arises,  whether  ac¬ 
cording  to  the  theory  of  Herbert  Spencer  or  Alexan¬ 
der  Bain  and  others  of  their  school,  whom  I  imagine 
sitting  yonder  on  my  left,  or  according  to  the  theory 
of  Kant  and  Rothe  and  their  followers,  whom  I 
imagine  sitting  there  on  my  right,  we  have  here  and 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  11 


now,  as  human  beings,  a  tendency  to  ask  whether 
any  one  who  injures  us  means  to  do  so,  or  does  so* 
accidentally ;  and  according  to  the  intention  we  judge 
the  external  act.  In  one  case  it  is  picking  the 
pocket :  in  the  other  it  is  swimming  the  Hellespont. 
[Applause.] 

There  are  two  schools  represented  by  these  stately 
auditors  of  ours,  invisible  but  tangible  here;  and 
when  I  turn  to  Spencer  and  Bain  on  my  left,  I 
find  conscience  called  fallible,  educable,  vacillating. 
John  Foster,  in  a  celebrated  essay,  says  that,  among 
human  spiritual  possessions,  there  is  nothing  so  ab¬ 
surd  and  chimerical  as  conscience.  It  is  a  bundle  of 
habits.  Pascal  affirms  that  “  conscience  is  one  thing 
north  of  the  Pyrenees,  and  another  south.”  We 
have  a  fifth  listener  here,  Dean  Mansel,  a  pupil  of 
Sir  William  Hamilton,  and  who  built  on  the  only 
boggy  acre  of  his  master’s  generally  sound  terri¬ 
tories.  Even  he  asks  incredulously  how  conscience 
obtains  the  right  to  rule  the  other  faculties.  (Man¬ 
sel,  Limits  of  Religious  Thought.')  But  if  I  turn  to 
Immanuel  Kant,  I  find  him  uttering  the  amazing 
proposition,  that  “  an  erring  conscience  is  a  chimera.” 
There  is  no  such  thing.  ( Tugendlelire ,  ix.  38.)  I  ask 
Rothe  yonder  what  he  says  about  that  statement,  and 
he  bows  assent  to  the  whole  of  it.  ( Theol .  Ethick, 
ii.  29.)  I  cross  the  German  Sea  to  Scotland,  and 
enter  the  parlor  of  Professor  Calderwood,  teacher  of 
ethics  in  the  university  at  Edinburgh,  where  Sir 
William  Hamilton  taught,  and  that  scholar  is  put¬ 
ting  Kant’s  proposition,  that  an  erring  conscience  is 


12 


CONSCIENCE. 


a  chimera,  into  the  foreground  of  his  last  work. 
(. Handbook  of  Moral  Philosophy ,  p.  81.)  Fichte 
supposed  himself  to  have  annihilated  the  doctrine 
that  there  can  be  any  such  thing  as  an  erring  con¬ 
science.  (, Sittenlehre ,  iv.  227.)  Stuart  Mill  sits 
yonder,  and  Rothe  here  looks  Stuart  Mill  in  the 
eyes ;  and  as  I  gaze  into  their  faces,  I  do  not  find 
that  Rothe  and  Fichte  and  Kant  are  as  likely  to  be 
looked  out  of  countenance  as  Mill  and  Spencer. 

Nevertheless  there  must  be  some  way  of  explain¬ 
ing  the  difference  between  these  honest  men.  We 
have  the  same  debates  among  ourselves.  We  are 
accustomed  to  affirm  that  conscience  has  something 
divine  in  it ;  and  that  which  is  divine  does  not  mis¬ 
lead  us,  does  it  ?  But  we  say  also  that  conscience  is 
not  infallible ;  it  is  erring.  The  Bible  itself  speaks 
of  conscience  as  seared,  blunted,  and  blinded.  We 
have  Scriptural  warrant  for  saying  that  the  con¬ 
science  may  be  seared  as  with  a  hot  iron.  And  yet 
the  Bible  does  speak  of  a  Light  that  lighteth  every 
man  that  cometh  into  the  world,  and  that  in  the 
beginning  was  with  God,  and  was  God.  Can  that 
be  seared  with  a  hot  iron  ?  Can  God  be  blinded  ? 
Plainly  there  are  two  doctrines  in  the  Scriptures  on 
this  subject,  or  rather  two  points  of  view.  These  op¬ 
posing  schools  are  not  defending  propositions  that 
really  contradict  each  other.  They  stand  at  different 
points  of  vision ;  and  so  the  different  popular  ideas 
concerning  conscience  are  apparently  self-contradic¬ 
tions,  because  we  do  not  notice  that  they  are  taken 
up  from  opposing  outlooks. 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  13 

Whenever  you  find  yourself  in  a  mental  fog,  at¬ 
tend  to  the  duty  of  definition. 

What  is  conscience  ?  It  was  my  fortune  to  spend 
the  first  three  months  after  the  close  of  three  years’ 
theological  study,  alone  on  Andover  hill,  with  the  use 
there  of  the  best  theological  library  in  New  England. 
I  had  had  the  usual  professional  instruction  in  reli¬ 
gious  science ;  but  to  my  humiliation  I  must  confess 
that  when  I  asked  myself  what  I  meant  by  con¬ 
science,  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  give  a  distinct 
definition.  Rothe,  in  the  last  edition  of  his  occasion¬ 
ally  eccentric  but  really  great  work  on  Theological 
Ethics  (sect.  177,  anm.  3),  carries  his  disaffection 
with  the  term  conscience  so  far  as  to  exclude  it 
from  his  volumes  altogether  as  scientifically  inadmis¬ 
sible  and  devoid  of  accurately  determined  logical 
contents.  I  had  been  authorized  to  teach  such  as 
were  foolish  enough  to  listen  a  few  propositions 
concerning  religious  truth;  but  I  could  not  define 
conscience.  I  set  myself  to  work,  and  it  was  nine 
days  before  any  adequate  light  dawned  upon  that 
point.  What  I  am  now  to  put  before  you  I  have 
often  tested  by  putting  it  before  scholars,  and  I  do 
not  know  that  an  essential  syllable  of  it  has  ever 
failed  to  receive  indorsement.  Nevertheless  I  ask 
no  man  to  adopt  my  theory  of  the  moral  sense;  I 
am  speaking  here,  as  always,  not  to  scholars,  and 
not  to  teachers  of  religious  science  who  honor  us 
with  their  presence,  but  to  the  average  inquirer ;  to 
the  person  who,  beginning  to  think  for  himself,  finds 
that  he  must,  first  of  all,  learn  how  to  think,  and 


14 


CONSCIENCE. 


that,  on  many  a  great  topic,  he  needs  to  know  what 
has  survived  in  the  struggles  of  scholars  with  each 
other,  age  after  age,  and  to  know  this  from  men  who 
have  time  to  examine  the  record. 

1.  Conscience,  according  to  the  loose  popular  idea 
of  it,  is  the  soul’s  sense  of  right  and  wrong. 

2.  Conscience,  according  to  the  strict  scholarly 
idea  of  it,  is  the  soul’s  sense  of  right  and  wrong  in 
its  moral  motives,  that  is,  in  its  choices  and  inten¬ 
tions. 

3.  On  the  one  hand,  it  is  clear  that  conscience, 
defined  in  the  loose  popular  way,  as  only  the  sense  of 
right  and  wrong,  implicitly  includes  the  action  of  the 
judgment  as  well  as  of  the  moral  perceptions  and 
feelings. 

4.  Since  judgment  is  fallible,  conscience,  defined 
as  a  spiritual  multiplex,  including  both  the  moral 
sense  and  the  judgment,  is  fallible,  and  may  justly 
be  spoken  of  as  often  blinded,  erring,  and  seared. 

5.  A  still  greater  fault  in  the  loose  popular  defini¬ 
tion  is  that  it  makes  no  explicit  distinction  between 
the  outer  act  and  the  inner  intention. 

6.  The  conscience,  according  to  this  definition,  is 
supposed  to  be  a  compound  of  faculties  by  which  we 
decide  on  what  is  called  the  rightness  or  wrongness 
of  external  acts,  and  as  such  is,  of  course,  doubly 
fallible,  and  may  with  scientific  justice  be  pro¬ 
nounced  erring,  vacillating,  and  often  self-contradic¬ 
tory. 

7.  On  the  other  hand,  if  conscience  be  defined  in 
the  strict  scholarly  way,  as  the  soul’s  sense  of  right 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  15 


and  wrong  in  the  sphere  of  its  own  intentions,  the 
judgment  or  purely  intellectual  activity  of  the  soul  is 
distinguished  from  the  moral  perception  and  feelings, 
and,  therefore,  in  this  definition,  does  not  constitute 
a  fallible  factor  in  conscience. 

8.  A  man  does  infallibly  know  whether  he  means 
right  or  wrong  in  any  deliberate  choice. 

9.  If,  therefore,  conscience  be  supposed  to  be,  as 
the  strict  definition  describes  it,  the  soul’s  sense  of 
right  and  wrong  in  its  own  choices  and  intentions, 
and  in  those  only,  conscience  is  infallible  within  its 
field. 

10.  In  this  sense  and  in  that  field,  conscience  is 
not  educable. 

11.  It-  follows  from  this  definition,  that  right  and 
wrong,  strictly  understood,  belong  only  to  choices 
and  to  intentions  as  including  choices.  “  Nothing,” 
says  Kant,  “  can  possibly  be  conceived  in  the  world, 
or  even  out  of  it,  which  can  be  called  good,  without 
qualification,  except  a  good  will.”  QGlrundlegung, 
Sect.  1.) 

12.  External  acts,  taken  wholly  apart  from  the  in¬ 
tentions  which  led  to  them,  have  only  expediency  or 
inexpediency,  usefulness  or  harmfulness;  and  their 
character  in  these  respects  is  ascertained  by  the  judg¬ 
ment  and  not  by  the  conscience. 

18.  If,  however,  we  employ  the  loose  definitions  of 
conscience,  there  is  an  important  distinction  to  be 
made  between  absolute  and  relative  right.  Absolute 
right  is  the  conformity  of  the  action  of  a  free  moral 
agent  to  the  fitness  of  things  as  they  are ;  relative 


16 


CONSCIENCE. 


right  is  the  conformity  of  our  choices  and  intentions 
to  the  fitness  of  things,  as,  with  the  best  light  within 
our  reach,  we  believe  them  to  be.  Conscience  points 
out  to  a  man  the  relative  right ;  that  is,  the  good  and 
evil  in  his  intentions. 

14.  When  we  are  about  to  form  an  intention,  con¬ 
science  looks  forward,  and  perceives  its  character ; 
when  we  form  it,  conscience  points  out  its  nature  as 
good  or  bad ;  after  we  have  executed  it,  conscience 
does  the  same. 

15.  Conscience  is  thus  antecedent,  concurrent,  and 
subsequent,  in  relation  to  every  act  of  choice. 

16.  It  is  demonstrable  that  before  and  without  the 
verdict  of  the  judgment  as  to  what  the  external  re¬ 
sults  of  an  intended  act  will  be,  conscience  approves 
or  condemns  the  intention  as  in  its  own  nature  good 
or  bad. 

17.  All  languages  make  a  distinction,  as  does  con¬ 
science,  between  the  right  and  the  expedient,  the 
right  and  the  prudent,  the  right  and  the  advanta¬ 
geous. 

18.  But  conscience  not  only  perceives  the  differ¬ 
ence  between  a  good  intention  and  a  bad :  it  feels 
that  the  good  intention  ought,  and  that  the  bad  ought 

*  not,  to  be  adopted  and  carried  out. 

19.  It  is  demonstrable  that  conscience  inflicts  re¬ 
morse  for  an  evil  choice  taken  alone,  or  for  a  bad 
intention  formed  but  not  carried  out. 

20.  Every  intention  has  two  sides,  —  rightness  or 
its  opposite,  and  obligatoriness  or  its  opposite. 

21.  The  former  distinction  is  perceived,  the  latter 
felt. 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  17 


22.  Conscience,  therefore,  may  be  briefly  and  pro¬ 
visionally  defined  as  a  faculty  including  both  a  per¬ 
ception  and  a  feeling,  —  a  perception  of  right  and 
wrong  in  the  nature  of  choices  and  intentions ;  and  a 
feeling  that  right  ought ,  and  wrong  ought  not ,  to  be 
carried  out  by  the  will.  Conscience  is  that  which 
perceives  and  feels  rightness  and  obligatoriness  in 
choices. 

Such  is  the  definition  with  which  we  set  out  on  a 
course  of  thought  in  which  it  is  hoped  there  may  be 
discussed  John  Stuart  Mill’s  views,  Herbert  Spen¬ 
cer’s,  Matthew  Arnold’s,  as  well  as  Kant’s  and  Rothe’s 
and  Butler’s,  or  the  entire  conflict  between  the  asso- 
ciational  and  the  intuitional,  and  between  the  latter 
and  the  pantheistic  theory,  concerniDg  the  loftiest  of 
the  faculties  possessed  by  man.  At  the  close  of  the 
enlargements  and  verifications  of  these  propositions 
which  are  to  come  in  subsequent  lectures,  there  will 
be  inferences  of  a  sort  which  I  hope  will  do  some¬ 
thing  to  blanch  the  cheeks  of  unscientific  thoughtless¬ 
ness.  Everywhere  we  are  to  proceed  according  to 
the  principles  of  inductive  science.  We  are  to  ask, 
What  are  the  facts  in  man’s  inmost  life,  and  what  its 
relations  to  the  nature  of  things?  We  are  to  infer 
from  uncontroverted  facts  concerning  the  moral 
sense,  what  its  nature  is.  We  are  to  judge  it  by  its 
effects.  I  am  not  asking  you,  in  any  thing  I  have 
thus  far  put  before  you,  to  accept  Mill’s  theory,  or 
Rothe’s,  Herbert  Spencer’s,  or  Kant’s.  I  am  assert¬ 
ing  here  and  now  only  that  a  distinction  is  to  be 
made  between  external  acts  and  inner  intentions,  and 


i 


18 


CONSCIENCE. 


that  the  peculiar  prerogative  of  conscience  is  to  tell 
us  what  is  right  or  wrong  within  the  sphere  of  inten¬ 
tions. 

You  notice  that  I  have  admitted  the  propriety  of 
all  our  popular,  and  of  course  of  all  the  Scriptural 
language,  concerning  the  possibility  that  the  con¬ 
science  may  be  seared  with  a  hot  iron ;  but  I  insist 
also  that  there  is  in  us  an  original  capacity  to  judge 
of  the  difference  between  right  and  wrong  intentions, 
and  that  as  clearly  as  we  see  that  the  whole  is  greater 
than  a  part,  we  see  that  meaning  right  is  something 
different  from  meaning  wrong. 

There  are  ethical  axioms,  as  there  are  mathematical 
axioms ;  and  if  exact  research  establishes  axioms  in 
ethics,  you  will  know  how  to  build  on  them  after  the 
pattern  shown  in  the  Mount.  In  the  mysteries  of 
man’s  moral  nature  there  is  a  Mount  that  burneth 
yet  as  with  fire,  and  that  cannot  be  touched,  and 
which,  if  we  could  see  it  in  its  unexplored  remain¬ 
ders,  we  should  ask  to  have  screened  from  us,  for  no 
man  ever  passed  forty  days  and  forty  nights  there 
without  coming  down  with  such  a  glory  on  his  face 
as  to  need  a  veil. 

In  spite  of  the  distinctions  which  I  have  indicated, 
you  say  that  it  is  not  clear  that  judgment  is  not  con¬ 
cerned  in  determining  whether  a  motive  or  intention 
is  right  or  wrong.  When  I  was  in  Syria,  I  saw  many 
strange  fruits,  and  could  occasionally  pluck  down  a 
pomegranate,  and  look  at  it,  weigh  it  in  my  hand, 
notice  its  subtle  fragrance,  and  finally  taste  it.  Now, 
no  doubt  the  intellectual  faculties  do  pluck  down 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  19 


motives  from  the  tree  Igdrasil,  and  no  doubt  we 
stand  as  lawyers  before  the  court  of  conscience,  and 
make  pleas,  often  very  mischievous  ones.  It  is  be¬ 
yond  controversy  that  the  judgment  is  a  fallible  fac¬ 
ulty,  and  that  I  do  weigh  the  Igdrasil  pomegranate 
in  the  intellectual  hand,  and  that  it  does  bring  the 
fruit  to  the  lips ;  but  it  is  only  the  tongue  that  tastes 
the  pomegranate.  By  an  intellectual  act,  we  bring 
the  motive  clearly  before  conscience,  and  conscience 
perceives  its  flavor*  It  is  not  the  fingers  that  taste 
the  strange  fruit.  The  eyes  know  nothing  of  flavor. 
There  is  no  sense  possessed  by  man  by  which  the 
flavor  of  the  pomegranate  can  be  ascertained,  except 
that  which  rests  in  the  tongue.  Without  the  sense  of 
taste,  there  is  no  perception  of  flavors ;  without  con¬ 
science,  there  is  no  perception  of  the  difference  be¬ 
tween  right  and  wrong.  Neither  in  the  former  nor 
in  the  latter  case  can  perception  be  acquired.  A 
being  without  conscience,  however  highly  endowed 
intellectually,  cannot  be  taught  to  feel  the  distinction 
between  what  ought  to  be  and  what  ought  not  to  be. 
We  do  not  reason  with  the  Corliss  engine,  to  teach 
it  that  it  should  plunge  its  pistons  regularly. 

We  can  imagine  a  being  possessed  of  the  intel¬ 
lectual  equipment  of  the  Aristotles  and  Bacons,  or 
the  executive  ability  of  the  Napoleons  and  Caesars, 
and  yet  without  a  perception  of  the  difference  be¬ 
tween  right  and  wrong.  We  can  picture  to  ourselves 
a  creature  possessed  of  that  perception  and  yet  without 
any  feeling,  when  right  has  been  seen ,  that  it  ought  to  be 
followed;  but  neither  popular  nor  scientific  language 


20 


CONSCIENCE. 


would  permit  us  to  say  that  such  a  being  has  a  con¬ 
science.  This  crucial  fact  shows  that  the  moral  sense 
must  be  made  to  include  both  a  perception  and  a  feel¬ 
ing  ;  but  the  latter  may  be  weak,  and  conscience  yet 
exist. 

I  define  conscience  a?  that  withir.  us  which  not 
only  perceives  what  is  right  in  moral  motives,  but 
also  feels  that  what  is  right  ought  to  be  chosen  by 
the  will.  You  may  be  puzzled  by  the  question 
whether  conscience  is  not  sometimes  inoperative  or 
dead.  I  know  that  this  feeling  that  what  is  right 
ought  to  be  followed,  may  have  greater  or  less  force ; 
but  the  perception  that  there  is  a  distinction  between 
right  and  wrong  in  intentions,  or  between  meaning  to 
do  well  and  meaning  to  do  ill,  I  hold  is  clear  in  every 
man  down  to  the  limits  of  sanity ;  and  that,  although 
the  magnetic  needle  may  not  always  be  followed,  al¬ 
though  the  crew  may  be  crazy  and  not  look  at  the 
card,  there  is  in  the  needle  a  power  that  makes  it 
point  to  the  north  whenever  it  is  balanced  on  a  hair 
point,  and  allowed  to  move  without  fetters. 

A  man  does  infallibly  know  whether  he  means  to 
be  mean  or  not,  and  he  does  infallibly  feel  mean 
whenever  he  means  to  be  mean. 

We  are  so  made  that  the  distinction  between  right 
and  wrong  in  the  sphere  of  intentions  is  as  evident 
to  us  in  moral  action  as  the  superiority  in  size  of  a 
whole  over  a  part  is  in  the  sphere  of  mathematics. 

I  beg  Mr.  Mill’s  pardon :  I  am  not  using  the  word 
intuitive,  which  he  dislikes  and  which  Kant  honors. 
Here  and  now  I  insist  on  nothing  more  than  the 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  21 


proposition  that  self-evident  truths  are  the  basis  of 
mathematics,  and  that  self-evident  truths  are  the 
basis  of  ethics,  and  that  we  perceive  all  such  truths 
directly.  They  are  matters  of  supreme  certainty. 
There  is  a  difference  between  the  right  hand  and  the 
left  in  the  soul’s  choices  among  moral  motives,  and 
men  are  as  sure  concerning  that  as  they  are  concern¬ 
ing  the  proposition  that  every  change  must  have  an 
adequate  cause.  Distinguish,  then,  between  the 
fingers  that  pluck  down  the  fruit,  or  the  intellectual 
faculties  that  discuss  intentions,  and  the  peculiar 
sense  that  tastes  them.  [Applause.]  I  may  almost 
define  conscience  as  the  tongue  that  tastes  the  flavor 
of  intentions.  [Applause.] 

Conscience  is  an  original  faculty,  although  in 
activity  it  draws  the  other  faculties  of  the  soul  into 
its  service.  Taste,  or  the  power  of  perceiving  the 
beautiful,  is  an  original  faculty ;  but  it  uses  all  the 
other  faculties.  So  memory  is  an  original  faculty; 
but  its  activity  implies  the  action  of  many  other 
faculties.  The  power  to  appreciate  the  ludicrous  is 
an  original  faculty ;  and  its  activity,  like  that  of  con¬ 
science,  implies  the  exercise  of  both  perception  and 
feeling.  There  is  no  more  reason  for  calling  con¬ 
science  a  merely  composite  power,  or  simply  the 
entire  list  of  human  faculties  applied  to  moral  truth, 
than  for  calling  taste  a  composite  power,  or  simply 
the  entire  list  of  the  faculties  applied  to  the  laws  of 
beauty.  At  the  last  analysis  of  taste  and  memory, 
and  the  power  to  perceive  the  ludicrous,  each  is 
found  to  have  a  separate  peculiar  function  of  its 
own ;  and  so  has  the  moral  faculty. 


22 


CONSCIENCE. 


Moral  discernment  differs  from  merely  intellectual 
discernment  in  that  the  former  is,  and  the  latter  is 
not,  necessarily  followed  by  a  feeling  of  obligation. 
The  discernment  of  the  ludicrous  differs  from  merely 
intellectual  perception  in  that  the  former  is,  and  the 
latter  is  not,  necessarily  followed  by  the  feeling  which 
prompts  to  laughter.  A  similar  contrast  exists 
between  the  perception  of  the  beautiful  and  merely 
intellectual  perception.  There  is  a  region  of  the 
soul  in  which  perception  and  emotion  appear  to  be 
inseparably  blended,  and  to  constitute  one  faculty,  as 
two  elements  unite  in  water,  which  is  yet  but  one 
substance.  This  region,  as  Sir  William  Hamilton 
has  remarked,  yet  needs  a  nomenclature. 

Whatever  the  origin  of  our  powers  of  taste  and 
memory  and  wit,  each  is  here  in  human  nature ; 
and  so  is  conscience.  As  Sidgwick  has  remarked 
( Methods  of  Ethics ,  London,  1877,  second  ed.  p.  vi.), 
the  teacher  of  ethics  is  no  more  called  on  to  inves¬ 
tigate  at  the  outset  of  his  discussions  the  origin  of 
conscience  than  the  geometer  to  investigate  the 
origin  of  those  perceptions  as  to  space  and  time 
upon  which  geometry  and  arithmetic  are  built. 
Under  the  topic  of  Heredity  (see  vol.  v.  of  the 
Boston  Monday  Lectures ),  it  is  my  purpose  to  discuss 
the  origin  of  conscience ;  but  here  and  now  I  exhibit 
the  faculty  only  as  an  inalienable  portion  of  balanced 
human  nature,  like  memory  or  the  perception  of  the 
ludicrous,  or  the  sense  of  the  beautiful. 

The  chief  advances  of  science  have  come  from 
th3  study  of  unexplored  remainders.  We  have  in 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  23 


conscience  a  perception  of  the  distinction  between 
right  and  wrong  in  moral  motives.  But  what  lies 
behind  that  perception  ?  The  difference  exists  in  the 
nature  of  things,  apparently.  But  what  is  meant  by 
the  nature  of  things  ?  There  is  in  conscience  a  feel¬ 
ing  that  we  ought  to  follow  what  we  perceive  to  be  a 
right  moral  motive,  and  ought  not  to  follow  what  we 
perceive  to  be  a  bad  one.  But  what  lies  behind  the 
terrific  weight  of  the  word  ought  ? 

Take  the  single  syllable  ought,  and  weigh  it,  my 
surprising  sceptical  friends,  and  do  so  according  to 
the  sternest  rules  of  the  scientific  method.  How  are 
we  to  ascertain  what  this  word  weighs,  unless  it  be 
by  experiment  ?  What  experiment  shall  we  try  with 
it,  if  it  be  not  that  of  weighing  over  against  it  some¬ 
thing  very  heavy  ?  What  shall  we  weigh  against 
the  one  word  ought?  Here  is  a  soldier  with  an 
empty  sleeve.  There  was  a  day  when  the  question 
arose,  whether  he  ought  to  go  to  the  front  in  the  war. 
He  had  to  maintain  father  and  mother;  and  the 
word  home  is  supposed  to  be  a  very  weighty  one. 
Heavier  than  the  word  father  or  mother  is  the  word 
wife.  He  weighed  that  word  and  the  others  with 
:t  against  the  one  word  ought;  and  father  and 
mother  and  wife  went  up  in  the  scale,  and  ought  went 
down,  and  he  went  to  the  front.  Is  ought  scientifi¬ 
cally  known  to  weigh  anything?  Here  is  another 
soldier  who  had  father,  mother,  wife,  and  children, 
to  weigh  against  that  insignificant  syllable ;  and  he 
weighed  them,  in  the  mornings  and  the  noons  — 
in  both  the  sacred  twilights,  as  they  say  in  India  — 


24 


CONSCIENCE. 


and  in  the  midnights.  Father,  mother,  wife,  and 
children  were  words  to  which  he  allowed  their  full 
weight.  He  was  the  only  support  of  his  family,  but 
the  one  word  ought  again  and  again  carried  up  the 
weight  of  these  weightiest  contradicting  syllables. 
What  if  this  soldier  and  that  could  have  put  into 
the  left-hand  scale  all  that  men  value  in  wealth  and 
honor  or  reputation  ?  I  will  not  suppose  the  word 
honor  to  have  any  other  meaning  than  reputation, 
for  I  cannot  weigh  ought  against  ought ;  and  a  man 
ought  to  maintain  his  honor.  We  must  not  be  so 
unscientific  as  to  weigh  a  thing  against  itself.  But 
we  put  in  here,  outward  standing  among  men,  and 
wealth,  and  life.  If  you  please,  sum  up  the  globes  as 
so  much  silver  and  the  suns  as  so  much  gold,  and 
cast  the  hosts  of  heaven  as  diamonds  on  a  necklace, 
into  one  scale,  and  if  there  is  not  in  it  any  part  of 
the  word  ought  —  if  ought  is  absent  in  the  one  scale, 
and -present  in  the  other  —  up  will  go  your  scale 
laden  with  the  universe,  as  a  crackling  paper  scroll  is 
carried  aloft  in  a  conflagration  ascending  toward  the 
stars.  [Applause.]  Is  it  not  both  a  curious  and  an 
appalling  fact,  this  weight  of  the  word  ought  —  and 
yet  a  fact  absolutely  undeniable?  Where  is  the 
materialist  or  the  pantheist  who  dares  assert  that  I 
am  making  this  syllable  too  heavy?  You  may  weigh 
against  that  word  every  thing  but  God,  and  it  will 
outweigh  all  but  himself.  I  cannot  imagine  God 
weighed  against  ought.  Precisely  here  is  the  ex¬ 
planation  of  a  mystery.  God  is  in  the  word  ought, 
and  therefore  it  outweighs  all  but  God.  [Applause.] 
There  is  youi  first  unexplored  remainder. 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  25 


But,  my  friends,  we  must  be  analytical  in  order  to 
be  brief. 

I.  Conscience  in  full  activity  includes,  — 

(1)  A  direct  perception  of  right  and  wrong  in 
choices. 

(2)  A  feeling  that  right  ought  and  that  wrong 
ought  not  to  be  performed. 

(3)  Complacency  in  the  right,  and  displacency  in 
the  wrong. 

(4)  A  sense  of  personal  merit  in  the  performance 
of  the  right,  and  of  personal  demerit  in  the  perform¬ 
ance  of  the  wrong. 

(5)  A  delight  or  pain,  bliss  or  remorse,  according 
as  the  choices  are  right  or  wrong. 

(6)  A  prophetic  anticipation  of  reward  for  the 
performance  of  right,  and  of  punishment  for  the  per¬ 
formance  of  wrong. 

The  fundamental  proof  that  conscience  in  full  ac¬ 
tivity  exhibits  the  six  special  methods  of  action  here 
named  is  to  be  found  in  accurate  observation  of  what 
takes  place  in  our  own  mental  and  moral  experience. 

II.  An  important  distinction  exists  between  what 
conscience  includes  and  what  it  implies. 

(1)  A  direct  perception  of  the  freedom  of  the 
will  is  not  one  of  the  activities  of  conscience ;  but 
the  fact  of  such  freedom  is  a  necessary  inference  by 
a  single  step  of  reasoning  from  the  sense  which  con¬ 
science  gives  us  of  personal  merit  and  demerit ;  for  it 
is  self-evident  that  these  can  be  the  qualities  of  only 
voluntary  action. 

(2)  A  direct  perception  of  the  fact  of  the  Divine 


26 


CONSCIENCE. 


existence  is  not  one  of  the  activities  of  conscience ; 
but  the  fact  is  a  necessary  inference  by  a  single  step 
of  reasoning  from  the  perception  of  a  moral  law 
and  the  sense  of  obligation  to  it  included  in  con¬ 
science.  The  moral  law,  of  which  the  existence  is 
proclaimed  in  the  very  structure  of  conscience,  and 
so  is  spiritually  tangible  by  conscience,  is  an  Eternal 
Somewhat  not  ourselves  which  makes  for  righteous¬ 
ness.  But  the  Plan  in  that  Somewhat  is  a  thought, 
and  there  cannot  be  thought  without  a  thinker ;  and 
so  the  Somewhat,  in  all  the  high  activities  of  con¬ 
science  in  connection  with  the  intellectual  faculty,  is 
recognized  as  a  Some  One.  This  recognition  is  so 
necessary  and  universal  that  the  fact  of  the  Divine 
existence  has  often  been  called  a  strictly  intuitive 
truth,  and  the  assertion  made  that  conscience  and  the 
soul’s  consciousness  of  God  are  one. 

(3)  A  direct  perception  of  the  fact  that  a  future 
state  of  personal  existence  awaits  man  is  not  one 
of  the  activities  of  conscience,  but  is  an  inference 
from  the  prophetic  anticipations  irresistibly  asserting 
themselves  in  conscience,  that  reward  and  punish¬ 
ment  await  him  beyond  death ;  and  also,  according 
to  Kant,  from  the  demand  which  conscience  makes 
for  the  soul’s  absolute  perfection,  and  the  practically 
necessary  condition  of  a  duration  adequate  to  the 
complete  fulfilment  of  the  moral  law. 

It  is  well  known  that  Kant  makes  the  freedom  of 
the  will,  the  fact  of  the  divine  existence,  and  that 
of  immortality,  postulates,  that  is,  presuppositions, 
of  conscience,  and  asserts  that  “  the  truth  of  these 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  27 


ideas  no  sophistry  will  ever  wrest  from  the  convic¬ 
tion  of  even  the  commonest  man.”  (. Dialectic  of 
Pure  Practical  Reason ,  vi.) 

III.  The  effects  of  conscience  arise  Doth  from 
what  it  includes  and  from  what  it  implies. 

Among  the  effects  resulting  from  both  these 
sources  are  :  — 

(1)  A  sense  of  an  approval  or  disapproval  from  a 
Divine  Somewhat  or  Some  One  not  ourselves,  ac- 
cording  as  we  are  influenced  by  good  or  bad  inten¬ 
tions. 

(2)  A  bliss  or  a  pain,  each  capable  of  being,  at  its 
height,  the  acutest  known  to  the  soul;  the  former 
arising  when  what  ought  to  be  has  been  done,  and 
the  latter  when  what  ought  not ;  and  the  two  alter¬ 
nating  or  acquiring  final  permanence  according  as 
our  approval  or  disapproval  of  ourselves,  and  our 
feeling  of  our  approval  or  disapproval  by  a  Divine 
Somewhat  or  Some  One  not  ourselves,  alternate  or 
acquire  final  permanence. 

(3)  A  prophetic  anticipation  that  both  our  approval 
and  disapproval  by  ourselves  and  by  a  Divine  Some¬ 
what  or  Some  One  not  ourselves  are  to  continue 
beyond  death,  and  to  have  consequences  affecting  us 
there  as  personal  existences. 

(4)  An  authority,  imperativeness,  and  inner  neces¬ 
sity,  arising  from  a  source  in  us,  and  yet  not  of  us, 
and  against  which,  in  the  activities  of  conscience, 
the  will  and  all  the  human  faculties  are  utterly 
powerless. 

In  these  three  propositions  and  their  subdivisions, 


28 


CONSCIENCE. 


I  venture  to  summarize  my  definition  of  conscience. 
If  we  put  into  the  definition  of  the  moral  sense  not 
only  all  it  includes,  but  all  it  implies,  we  overload 
the  definition,  and  accurate  psychological  observation 
will  not  justify  our  analysis.  This  is  the  fault  of 
many  mystical  definitions.  On  the  other  hand,  if,  in 
our  description  of  conscience,  we  do  not  take  into 
view  what  it  implies,  as  well  as  what  it  includes,  our 
account  of  the  moral  sense  is  not  true  to  the  facts 
of  life  :  it  is  cold,  inadequate,  and  palpably  unscien¬ 
tific.  This  is  the  fault  of  many  rationalistic  descrip¬ 
tions. 

The  novel  point  in  the  definition  and  description 
of  conscience  here  attempted  is  the  distinction  be¬ 
tween  what  conscience  includes  and  what  it  implies. 
The  activities  of  conscience  and  the  effects  of  con¬ 
science  are  to  be  distinguished  from  each  other  in 
that  the  former  contain  only  what  the  organic  actions 
of  the  faculty  include,  while  the  latter  result  from 
both  what  those  actions  include  and  what  they  imply. 

Only  he  who  takes  into  view  both  what  the  activi¬ 
ties  of  the  moral  faculty  include,  and  what  they 
imply,  can  have  any  proper  conception  of  the  awe 
and  mystery  and  might  of  conscience. 

In  the  preliminary  definition  I  have  used  the  word 
sense  ;  for  that  may  mean  either  a  perception  or  feel - 
ing ,  and  conscience  includes  both  a  perception  of 
rightness,  and  a  feeling  of  oughtness.  This  latter 
word  is  in  standard  use  in  the  Scottish  philosophy. 
“  It  is  not  plainer,”  said  Richard  Price  (. Review , 
chap.  6),  “  that  figure  implies  something  figured, 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  29 


solidity  resistance,  or  an  effect  a  cause,  than  it  is 
that  rightness  implies  oughtness.”  (See  also  Cal- 
DERWOOD,  Handbook  of  Moral  Science.')  Butler 
taught  that  so  far  from  conscience  being  a  per¬ 
ception  or  a  feeling  alone,  “  it  probably  includes 
both.”  I  am  aware  how  much  I  venture  in  giving 
a  definition  of  a  term  as  to  the  full  meaning  of  which 
there  is  up  to  this  hour  only  too  little  agreement 
among  experts.  (See  Hofmann,  Das  Grewissen , 
Leipzig,  1866 ;  the  best  recent  German  work  on  Con¬ 
science.) 

From  the  dawn  of  ethical  investigation,  fragments 
of  the  definition  of  conscience  now  given  have  been 
appearing,  although  they  have  rarely  been  combined 
into  a  self-consistent  whole. 

Butler  confines  the  action  of  conscience  to  the 
sphere  of  intentions :  “  Will  and  design  constitute  the 
very  nature  of  actions  as  such,  and  they  are  the  object, 
and  the  only  one,  of  the  approving  and  disapproving 
faculty.”  (On  the  Nature  of  Virtue ,  Diss.  II.)  He 
describes,  though  he  does  not  discuss,  its  prophetic 
office :  “  Conscience  without  being  consulted,  with¬ 

out  being  advised  with,  magisterially  exerts  itself, 
and  if  not  forcibly  stopped  naturally  and  always  of 
course  goes  on  to  anticipate  a  higher  and  more  effec¬ 
tual  sentence,  which  shall  hereafter  second  and  affirm 
its  own.”  (  On  Human  Nature ,  Sermon  II.) 

The  most  elaborate  recent  treatise  in  German  on 
conscience  defines  it  as  “a  fixed  readiness  (coming 
into  activity  with  inner  necessity  in  a  given  act  of 
will)  to  institute  a  comparison  between  the  given  act 


30 


CONSCIENCE. 


of  will  and  a  law  as  standard  in  the  same  instant  with 
the  act  of  will,  touching  us  from  outside  ourselves, 
and  unconditionally  claiming  for  itself  authority.” 
(Hofmann,  Das  G-ewissen ,  p.  83.) 

Here  and  now  I  use  the  numbered  propositions  of 
thi#  discussion  only  as  the  outline  which  this  lecture 
is  intended  to  draw  in  bold  contours;  and  I  leave 
you  to  take  the  point  of  view  of  practical  philosophy, 
without  asking  you  to  decide  to-day  between  the 
Mills  and  the  Spencers  on  the  one  hand  and  the 
Kants  and  the  Rothes  on  the  other.  These  two  sets 
of  listeners  will  indorse  these  propositions  as  state¬ 
ments  true  to  human  nature.  There  is  within  us 
the  power  of  perceiving  the  difference  between  right 
and  wrong  in  the  sphere  of  intentions.  We  have  a 
feeling  that  the  right  ought  to  be  followed,  and  that 
the  wrong  ought  not  to  be.  We  have  a  sense  of 
merit  and  demerit,  or  of  approval  and  of  disapproval 
of  ourselves.  Our  instincts  assure  us  that  there  is 
an  approval  or  disapproval  above  our  own.  We 
have  a  bliss  or  pain,  according  as  we  feel  this  ap¬ 
proval  or  disapproval  from  ourselves,  and  from 
Somewhat  or  Some  One  not  ourselves.  Lastly, 
there  is  in  conscience  a  prophetic  office,  by  which 
we  anticipate  that  consequences,  closely  concerning 
us  as  conscious  personal  existences,  will  follow 
us  beyond  death.  In  all  these  particulars  con¬ 
science  acts  without  the  consent  of  the  will.  It 
puts  forth  its  activities  by  a  mysterious  inner  neces¬ 
sity,  which  although  in  us  is  not  of  us.  It  claims  for 
itself,  therefore,  in  the  constitution  of  man  uncon- 


UNEXPLORED  REMAINDERS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  31 


ditional  supremacy.  “  Had  it  strength  as  it  had 
right,”  says  Bishop  Butler,  “had  it  power  as  it  had 
manifest  authority,  it  would  absolutely  govern  the 
world.”  (  On  Human  Nature ,  Sermon  II.) 

I  defy  any  student  of  the  laws  of  the  human  soul 
as  recorded  in  the  unpartisan  record  of  the  languages 
and  literatures  of  all  the  nations,  or  any  man  who 
will  be  faithful  to  the  scientific  method  in  the  intro¬ 
spective  study  of  his  own  experience,  or  any  can¬ 
did  and  clear  thinker,  to  deny,  in  the  name  of  induc¬ 
tive  science,  the  existence  in  the  moral  faculty  of 
either  of  the  seven  traits  here  ascribed  to  it. 

Think  of  the  unexplored  remainders  beyond  each 
one  of  the  ascertained  scientific  facts  concerning 
Conscience.  Where  is  the  seat  of  that  Authority 
which  speaks  in  the  mysterious  but  wholly  undeni¬ 
able  weight  of  the  word  ought  ?  Where  now  is  He 
who  is  the  Light  that  lighteth  every  man  that 
cometh  into  the  world,  and  that  in  the  beginning 
was  with  God  and  was  God  ?  There  are  men  who 
do  not  perceive  the  absolutely  unfathomable  glory 
of  Christianity  either  as  a  philosophy  or  as  a  life, 
and  who  ask  vaguely  where  He  is  who  spoke  once  as 
never  man  spake,  and  since  has  governed  the  cen¬ 
turies  ?  Where  is  He  whose  pierced  right  hand  lifted 
heathenism  off  its  hinges,  and  turned  into  another 
channel  the  dolorous  and  accursed  ages  ?  To  me, 
too,  on  humble  and  struggling  paths  in  the  valleys 
of  thought,  as  well  as  to  your  Kants  and  your 
Rothes,  aloft  there  where  the  sky-kissed  peaks  of 
research  gaze  upon  the  coming  sun,  the  sublimest 


32 


CONSCIENCE. 


as  well  as  the  most  organizing  and  redemptive  truth 
of  exact  ethical  science  is  the  identity  of  the  moral 
law  and  the  Divine  Nature.  Wherever  the  moral 
law  acts,  there  Christianity  finds  the  personal  omni¬ 
presence  of  Him  whom  we  dare  not  name, —  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ;  Creator,  Redeemer,  Sanctifier ; 
One  God,  who  was,  and  is,  and  is  to  come.  At  this 
miraculous  hour,  the  Light  that  lighteth  every  man 
that  cometh  into  the  world  is,  not  was.  It  is  scien¬ 
tifically  known  that  this  Light  has  its  temple  in 
Conscience.  But  it  has  been  proclaimed  for  ages  by 
Christianity  that  God  is  One,  and  that  our  Lord  is  as 
personally  present  in  every  breath  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
in  the  latest  days,  as  he  was  in  that  breath  which  he 
breathed  on  his  disciples  when  he  said,  “  Receive  ye 
the  Holy  Ghost.”  Our  cheeks  may  well  grow  white 
and  the  blood  of  the  ages  leap  with  a  new  inspiration, 
when,  standing  between  Christianity  and  science,  we 
find  the  thunders  of  the  one  and  the  whispers  of  the 
other  uttering  the  same  truth.  •  It  is  a  familiar  doc¬ 
trine  to  Christianity,  that  our  bodies  are  the  temple 
of  Somewhat  and  Some  One  not  ourselves.  That 
Some  One  Christianity  does,  although  physical  science 
does  not,  know  by  an  Incommunicable  Name.  There 
are  connections  between  religion  and  science  here  of 
the  most  overawing  moment ;  and  in  the  whole  field 
of  the  truth  concerning  Conscience  they  are  the 
vastest  unexplored  remainders.  [Applause.] 


IL 

SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


THE  EIGHTY-SECOND  LECTURE  IN  THE  BOSTON  MONDAY 
LECTURESHIP,  DELIVERED  IN  TREMONT  TEMPLE, 

OCT.  8. 


Das  Gesicht  eines  Menschen  sagt  in  der  Regel  mehr  und  inte- 
ressanteres  als  sein  Mund.  Aucl  ipricht  der  Mund  nur  Gedanken 
eines  Menschen,  das  Gesicht  einen  Gedanken  der  Natur  aus. — 
Schopenhauer:  Pcvrerga  und  Paralepomena,  ii.  509. 


Ben  discerneva  in  lor  la  testa  bionda; 

Ma  nella  facce  l’occhio  si  smarria, 

Come  virtu  ch’a  troppo  si  confonda. 

Dante:  Purgatorio,  viii.  34. 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 

PRELUDE  ON  CURRENT  EVENTS. 

Whoever  becomes  an  incendiary  or  an  assassin 
in  the  conflict  between  labor  and  capital,  let  him 
suffer  the  full  penalty  of  the  law,  whether  he  be  a 
millionnaire  or  a  Molly  Maguire.  [Applause.]  The 
riffraff  rioter,  the  petroleum  Communist,  the  fire- 
bottle  loafer,  are  enemies  of  the  human  race ;  and  if 
they  defy  the  law,  a  republic  must  treat  them  with 
that  kind  of  mercy  which  Napoleon  showed  toward 
the  original  Communists  of  Paris,  when  he  closed 
the  French  Revolution  by  a  whiff  of  grape-shot. 
Asked  to  account  for  the  splintering  of  the  Church 
of  St.  Roche,  he  said,  “  It  is  false  that  we  fired  first 
with  blank  charge :  it  had  been  a  waste  of  life  to  do 
that.*’  As  a  republican  of  the  American,  and  not  of 
the  Red  or  Communistic  species,  I  passed  in  Paris 
some  thankful  moments,  leaning  against  the  rabbets 
and  plinths  of  St.  Roche  Church,  which  show  splin¬ 
tered  by  that  shot  to  this  hour. 

The  American  lower  ranks  contain  three  different 

sets  of  men  —  the  unenterprising,  the  unfortunate, 

35 


36 


CONSCIENCE. 


and  the  unprincipled.  The  shiftlessness  of  the  un* 
enterprising  sometimes  needs  the  spur  of  hunger.  It 
is  good  political  action,  as  well  as  good  morals,  to 
insist  that  if  any  man  will  not  work,  neither  shall  he 
eat.  The  unfortunate  who  are  not  unprincipled  will 
not  long  remain  unfortunate.  Our  civilization, 
therefore,  will  need  to  concern  itself  chiefly  with 
those  who  are  really  without  aspiration  or  principle 
enough  to  occupy  their  opportunities  of  rising  in 
American  society.  Hampden  and  Cromwell,  Adams 
and  Washington,  have  made  it  possible  for  any  one 
to  rise  in  the  United  States  who  has  the  strength 
and  the  will  to  do  so.  If  any  one  does  not  rise,  it 
must  be  because  he  lacks  either  energy  or  principle. 
“  I  began  with  twenty-five  cents,”  said  a  millionnaire 
to  his  discontented  workingmen  on  the  Mississippi 
last  summer,  “  and  every  one  of  you  has  the  same 
opportunity.”  That  was  a  distinctively  American 
speech.  Commonly  the  cripples  and  the  roughs,  the 
very  unfortunate  and  the  utterly  unprincipled,  are  at 
the  bottom  of  society  in  democratic  great  cities. 

The  lower  classes  abroad  are  composed  very  differ¬ 
ently  from  the  American.  Dives  and  Lazarus  in  the 
Old  World  have,  and  here  they  have  not,  hereditary 
positions.  The  mobility  of  our  society  is  such  that 
Dives  or  his  sons  may  sink  to  the  position  of  Lazarus, 
and  Lazarus  or  his  sons  may  rise  to  the  position  of 
Di  ves.  We  have  no  law  of  primogeniture.  We 
have  no  inherited  or  artificial  social  rank.  The  sons 
of  the  poor  and  the  rich  easily  change  positions. 
It  follows,  from  this  fact,  that  the  cause  of  the  rich 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


37 


man  in  America  is  every  man’s  cause.  A  man  is  a 
man,  even  if  his  father  was  rich.  But  it  follows 
also,  from  the  same  fact,  that  the  cause  of  the  poor 
man  is  every  man’s  cause.  A  man  is  a  man,  even  if 
his  father  was  poor. 

“  For  a’  that,  and  a’  that, 

A  man’s  a  man  for  a’  that.” 

But  if  a  man  will  work,  shall  he  eat  ?  There  is  a 
distinction  to  he  made  between  family  wages  and 
bachelor  wages.  At  the  bottom  of  the  collisions  of 
labor  and  capital,  which  caused  ten  cities  in  America 
to  listen  not  long  ago  to  volleys  of  sharp  shot, 
was  the  competition  of  bachelor  wages  with  family 
wages.  John  here  has  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  day,  and 
can  barely  support  his  family.  James  yonder  has 
no  work,  and  h  a  bachelor,  and,  of  course,  is  willing 
to  labor  for  eighty  cents  a  day.  Vanderbilt  says 
he  could  have  manned  all  his  railways  by  paying 
only  eighty  cents  a  day  for  labor.  James  comes  to 
John,  and  says,  “  There  is  a  strike,  and  you  are  un¬ 
willing  to  labor  for  eighty  cents  a  day ;  but  I  am 
willing,  and  will  take  your  place.”  John  replies, 
“  James,  if  you  do  that,  I  will  kill  you.”  James  says, 
“If  you  shoot  me,  the  soldiers  will  shoot  you.”  John 
answers,  “  I  will  stop  the  trains,  and  you  shall  not 
run  them.”  He  is  as  good  as  his  word.  That  is 
what  it  is :  a  conflict  between  bachelor  wages  and 
family  wages.  The  soldiers  appear  when  the  roughs 
and  the  sneaks  begin  to  fire  round-houses  and  trains. 
The  workingmen  did  not  intend  to  burn  up  valua- 


38 


CONSCIENCE. 


bles ;  but  they  meant  to  keep  ill-paid  labor  from  out* 
bidding  them  in  a  competition  which  was  reducing 
wages.  Their  mode  of  doing  this  was  to  stop  rail¬ 
way  traffic,  —  no  doubt  a  most  suicidal  as  well  as 
criminal  procedure.  Low-paid  labor  forgot  two 
things :  first,  that  it  takes  two  to  make  a  bargain ; 
and,  second,  that  it  is  not  one  of  the  rights  of  labor 
to  prevent  labor. 

When  two  representatives  of  the  workingmen  — 
family  wages  on  one  side  and  bachelor  wages  on  the 
other  —  come  thus  into  collision  in  the  youth,  or 
rather  in  the  infancy  of  the  Republic,  the  sign  is  talk¬ 
ative  about  much  yet  to  come  in  the  maturity  of  our 
land.  There  is  a  hope  possessed  by  many,  that  the 
collisions  between  capital  and  labor  may,  in  America, 
be  settled  by  reason,  and  not  by  force,  and  settled, 
not  according  to  the  ideas  of  capital  on  the  one 
hand,  nor  according  to  those  of  labor  on  the  other. 
Force,  in  the  riots  of  the  Communists  in  Paris,  set¬ 
tled  the  question  for  a  while  on  the  side  of  petroleum 
roughs  and  sneaks,  or  the  unprincipled  portion  of 
the  lower  classes.  In  some  other  parts  of  Europe, 
hereditary  position  and  wealth  and  absolute  govern¬ 
ment  have  settled  the  question  with  equal  injustice 
by  force,  although  with  less  noise,  and  on  the  side  of 
capital.  If,  in  America,  this  question  can  have  fair 
discussion  from  the  friends  of  both  labor  and  capital ; 
if,  as  is  perhaps  not  easily  possible,  the  question  can 
be  kept  out  of  the  hands  of  political  demagogism 
[applause]  ;  if  it  can  be  lifted  up  early  to  a  plane  of 
thought  substantially  Christian,  —  then  America,  in 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


39 


settling  the  question  for  herself,  will  assuredly  help 
much  to  settle  it  for  the  world. 

“  When  a  deed  is  done  for  freedom,  through  the  broad  earth’s 
aching  breast 

Runs  a  thrill  of  joy  prophetic,  trembling  on  from  east  to  west; 
And  the  slave,  where’er  he  cowers,  feels  the  soul  within  him 
climb 

To  the  awful  verge  of  manhood,  as  the  energy  sublime 

Of  a  century  bursts  full-blossomed  on  the  thorny  stem  of  time.” 

Lowell  :  The  Present  Crisis. 

One  full  blossom  has  appeared  on  the  American 
branch  of  the  tree  Igdrasil,  in  the  abolition  of  slavery ; 
perhaps  an  hundred  years  hence  the  time  will  be  ripe 
for  the  appearing  of  another  blossom  in  the  peace 
able  settlement  of  the  conflicts  between  labor  and 
capital.  [Applause.] 

But  when  John  refuses  to  allow  James  to  take  his 
place  at  eighty  cents  a  day,  John  has  his  children  in 
mind.  What  are  comfortable  wages  ?  If  starvation 
wages  were  correctly  defined  in  a  previous  discussion, 
shall  we  not  ask,  with  sharp  attention,  What  are  nat¬ 
ural  or  just  wages  ?  My  proposition,  which  I  do  not 
ask  any  one  to  defend,  is  that  just  wages  will  not  vio¬ 
late  the  rights  of  children  and  of  old  age.  By  this  I 
mean  that  whoever  is  willing  to  labor  physically  the 
legal  number  of  hours  a  day  should  be  paid  enough  to 
insure  him,  if  he  is  prudent  and  economical,  and  has 
no  bad  habits,  a  living  for  himself  and  his  children 
while  they  are  too  young  to  labor  remuneratively, 
oppoifcunity  to  educate  them,  and  some  support  for 
himself  and  wife  when  the  power  to  labor  shall  have 


40 


CONSCIENCE 


ceased.  That  is  only  enough  to  give  the  State  the 
strength  of  its  citizens.  That  is  only  enough  to  make 
firm  the  ground-sill  which  must  lie  under  what  your 
Wendell  Phillips  calls  the  heavy  working  of  republi¬ 
can  institutions.  If  public  sentiment,  if  arbitrating 
boards,  if  friends  of  capital  or  labor,  will  turn  atten¬ 
tion  upon  the  facts  officially  ascertained  and  pub¬ 
lished  by  your  Massachusetts  Bureau,  it  will  be  found 
that  children’s  rights  are  deeply  complicated  with 
this  whole  question  of  wages.  Why,  you  have  in 
this  Commonwealth  now  104,000  illiterates  out  of  a 
population  of  1,600,000.  Twelve  thousand  of  these 
illiterates  are  native  born.  More  than  ninety  thou¬ 
sand  are  foreign  born.  But,  whether  born  here  or 
abroad,  they  failed  to  learn  to  read  and  write,  chiefly 
because  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  assist  in  the 
support  of  their  families.  It  is  understood  very  well 
by  all  who  have  looked  into  the  statistics  on  this 
question,  that  “  children  under  fifteen  years  of  age  ” 
— I  am  reading  the  very  words  of  the  report  of  1875 
of  the  Massachusetts  Bureau  of  Labor —  “  supply  by 
their  labor  from  one-eighth  to  one-sixth  of  the  total 
family  earnings  of  the  wage  class  in  this  Common¬ 
wealth.  On  children,  parents  depend  for  from  one- 
fourth  to  one-third  of  the  entire  family  earnings.” 
Families  with  most  children  occupy  usually  the  worst 
tenements.  Without  children’s  earnings  a  majority 
of  the  397  families,  which  your  Bureau  visited  in 
1875,  would  have  fallen  into  poverty  or  debt.  With 
the  assistance  of  children,  there  was  only  in  a  few 
cases  a  possibility  of  a  family  acquiring  a  competence, 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


41 


that  is,  of  having  a  home  of  its  own,  even  after  the 
father  was  sixty  years  old. 

Now,  I  am  drawing  near  a  time  of  life  when  I 
ought  to  begin  to  think  of  founding  a  home ;  and  it 
would  certainly  seem  to  be  hardship  to  me,  if  at  forty 
or  forty-five  years  of  age  I  could  not  have  a  little 
place  that  I  could  call  mine.  But  what  if  at  fifty  or 
sixty  I  could  not  ?  How  do  I  know  that  a  grandson 
of  mine  will  not  be  a  laborer  by  the  day  ?  How  do 
you  know  that  the  haughty  children  of  Boston  may 
not  have  grandchildren  that  will  not  be  haughty  on 
a  dollar  a  day  ?  We  in  this  country  are  all  members 
of  each  other,  for  there  is  no  hereditary  position  for 
any  man  ;  and  what  if  at  sixty  your  descendant  could 
not,  if  industrious,  economical,  and  without  bad  habits, 
have  a  little  home  of  his  own  when  his  power  to  labor 
ceases  ?  I  conversed  with  a  celebrated  manufacturer 
in  old  Manchester,  England,  once,  and  put  the  ques¬ 
tion  to  him,  whether  any  large  percentage  of  the  ordi¬ 
nary  unskilled  operative  class  in  England  could  have 
homes  of  their  own.  “Not  three  in  a  thousand,” 
said  he.  Although  you  may  not  believe  it  until  you 
examine  the  facts,  low-paid  labor  in  this  country,  in 
the  very  language  of  your  own  Massachusetts  Bureau, 
“has  only  in  a  few  cases  a  possibility  of  acquiring  a 
competence,”  that  is,  a  home  of  its  own. 

My  proposition  is  simply  that  we  must  not  violate 
children’s  rights,  and  add  thus  to  the  strangely  cres¬ 
cent  class  of  the  illiterate ;  and  that  we  must  not  vio¬ 
late  the  rights  of  people  in  extreme  age,  and  thus  fill 
up  the  ranks  of  the  poorhouse  and  of  all  who  depend 


42 


CONSCIENCE. 


on  charity.  We  are  closing  the  youth  of  the  Ameri 
can  republic.  We  are  drawing  near  its  majority,  and 
children’s  rights  and  the  rights  of  age  we  must  pro¬ 
tect  by  a  proper  consideration  of  wages. 

Who  is  to  arbitrate?  Mr.  Mundella  says  that 
arbitration  abroad  has  effected  more  than  any  thing 
else  to  heal  difficulties  between  workingmen  and 
their  employers.  I  fear  greatly  that  the  State  of 
Ohio,  in  now  leading  off  American  sentiment  in  the 
direction  of  governmental  interference  between  capi¬ 
tal  and  labor,  is  taking  a  somewhat  unadvised  step. 
This  whole  matter  is  going  into  politics.  Dema¬ 
gogues  are  to  discuss  it.  We  are  to  have  all  kinds  of 
deformers  mingled  with  reformers  on  this  theme. 
If  I  venture  much  in  introducing  it  here,  I  do  so 
because  I  believe  that  only  a  diffusion  of  conscien¬ 
tiousness  by  the  churches,  only  the  bringing  of  all 
classes,  rich  and  poor,  into  those  relations  which  be¬ 
long  to  them  when  they  are  on  the  floor  of  God’s 
house  and  measured  by  His  standards,  can  ultimately 
give  safety  to  society  under  republican  institutions. 
[Applause.]  You  have  no  better  arbitrating  board 
in  America  between  labor  and  capital  than  the  vol¬ 
untary  system  in  the  American  church.  Give  us  a 
glorious  American  church,  and  we  will  settle  for  the 
world  here,  and  settle  peaceably,  the  conflicts  which 
only  the  bayonet  has  been  able  to  put  down  abroad. 

You  Christianize  Magdalen,  you  wish  to  Christian¬ 
ize  Lazarus,  you  would  Christianize  Dives.  Has  not 
the  hour  come  in  America  when  religion,  in  the  name 
of  political  science  and  of  Him  who  once  had  not  where 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


43 


to  lay  His  head,  should  stand  erect  in  her  shining 
garments,  and  teach,  in  no  craven  or  apologetic  tone, 
not  only  that  republican  institutions  must  Christian¬ 
ize  Magdalen  and  Lazarus  and  Dives,  but  that,  first 
of  all  governmental  institutions  in  the  world,  they 
must  Christianize  Caesar  ?  [Applause.] 


THE  LECTURE. 


Dante,  describing  the  angels  whom  he  met  in  the 
Paradiso,  impresses  us  at  once  with  their  external 
glory  and  their  spiritual  effulgence.  Invariably  he 
makes  the  former  a  result  of  the  latter.  With  closer 
faithfulness  to  physical  science  than  he  dreamed,  and 
building  better  than  he  knew,  he  sings  :  — 

“  Another  of  those  splendors 
Approached  me,  and  its  will  to  pleasure  me 
It  signified  by  brightening  outwardly, 

As  one  delighted  to  do  good  ; 

Became  a  thing  transplendent  in  my  sight, 

As  a  fine  ruby  smitten  by  the  sun.” 

Paradiso,  canto  ix.  13-19. 


Dante  says  of  Beatrice,  as  he  saw  her  in  the  Para¬ 
diso,  that, — 


“  She  smiled  so  joyously, 

That  God  seemed  in  her  countenance  to  rejoice.” 

Paradiso,  canto  xxvii.  105. 


Allow  me  to  adopt  this  last  line  of  Dante’s,  and  all 
it  suggests,  as  a  description  of  what  I  mean  by  solar 
light  in  the  face  of  man.  This  radiance  ought  to  be 
by  us,  as  it  is  by  natural  law,  most  searchingly  di^ 


14 


CONSCIENCE. 


tinguished  from  all  lesser  illuminations.  Its  specific 
difference  from  every  other  light  is  that  in  it  G-od  seems 
to  overawe  beholders  and  to  rejoice .  It  is  scientifically 
incontrovertible  that  there  is  sometimes  seen  such  a 
light  in  the  present  world.  Many  a  poet  and  seer 
and  martyr  and  reformer,  or  woman  of  the  finest 
fibre,  has  at  times  had  a  face  that  has  looked  like 
porcelain  with  a  light  behind  it.  But  this  is  not  solar 
light,  unless  it  have  in  it  that  specific  overawing 
difference  which  Dante  names.  The  mysteriously 
commanding  and  glad  light  is  to  be  distinguished 
from  merely  aesthetic  or  intellectual  luminousness  in 
the  countenance,  by  a  peculiar  moral  authority,  inci¬ 
sive  regnancy,  and  unforced  elateness,  bliss,  and  awe. 
The  radiance  cannot  be  counterfeited.  It  can  come 
into  existence  only  on  inexorable  conditions.  The 
appearance  and  disappearance  of  the  solar  light  in 
the  face  of  man  are  governed  by  fixed  natural  laws. 
Is  it  possible  to  discover  any  of  them  ? 

First  of  all,  I  ask  you  to  look  at  the  whole  topic 
of  solar  self-culture  through  the  lenses  of  the  coolest 
inductive  research.  Put  aside  all  mysticism ;  fasten 
the  attention  only  on  visible  facts,  as  well  known  to 
be  a  part  of  human  experience  as  that  men  walk  or 
breathe;  build  only  on  the  granite  of  the  scientific 
method,  and  let  us  see  what  structure  can  be  erected 
by  the  use  of  blocks  cut  on  a  line  with  the  natural 
cleavage  of  the  rock  from  this  unhewn  quarry,  that 
is,  by  untutored,  indisputable  propositions  certified 
by  daily  observation. 

1 .  There  is  sometimes  in  the  face  a  solar  look. 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


45 


2.  There  is  sometimes  in  the  face  an  earthy  look. 

3.  The  former  arises  from  the  activity  of  the  higher 
nature  when  conscience  is  supreme. 

4.  The  latter  arises  from  the  activity  of  the  lower 
nature  when  conscience  is  not  supreme. 

5.  The  earthy  look,  other  things  being  equal, 
quails  before  the  solar  look. 

6.  The  merely  intellectual  light  in  a  face  quails 
before  the  solar  light  when  other  things  are  equal. 

7.  Merely  aesthetic  light,  or  that  arising  from  the 
action  of  the  faculties  addressed  by  what  is  common¬ 
ly  called  culture,  quails,  other  things  being  equal, 
before  the  solar  light. 

8.  The  light  of  merely  executive  force,  other 
things  being  equal,  quails  also. 

9.  The  intellectual,  the  aesthetic,  the  executive, 
and  all  other  light  combined,  quail,  other  things 
being  equal,  before  the  solar  light. 

10.  It  follows  necessarily  that  only  such  self-cul¬ 
ture  as  brings  this  light  to  the  face  can  give  its 
possessor  all  the  power  possible  to  man. 

11.  Only  such  self-culture  can  cause  the  lower 
forms  of  culture  to  stand  in  awe  before  it. 

12.  The  only  complete  and  the  only  victorious 
self-culture,  therefore,  is  scientifically  known  to  be 
solar  self-culture. 

Be  Greeks,  gentlemen,  long  enough  to  believe 
that  every  change,  and  therefore  the  variation  in  the 
inner  illumination  of  the  countenance,  must  have  an 
adequate  cause.  How  is  it  that  this  peculiar  com¬ 
manding  light  springs  up  from  within  the  multiplex 


46 


CONSCIENCE. 


whole  of  our  physical  organism?  Your  materialist 
will  say  that  certain  emotions  increase  the  tension 
of  the  mechanism  of  the  eye ;  and  that,  therefore, 
external  light  is  more  readily  reflected  by  it,  and  that 
we  have  hence,  apparently,  a  new  light  in  the  eye 
when  those  emotions  are  active.  But  what  is  to  be 
said  of  the  light  that  beams  from  the  forehead,  and 
from  the  cheeks,  and  seems  to  be  capable  of  beaming 
from  the  whole  exterior  of  our  mysterious  form? 
That  radiance  does  beam  from  the  forehead ;  it  does 
beam  from  the  cheeks ;  and  why  might  it  not,  if  this 
capacity  of  the  organism  to  shine  were  once  put  into 
full  action,  beam  from  the  whole  man?  The  ma¬ 
terialist  would  say  that  the  particles  of  matter  in  the 
cellular  integument  are  capable  of  re-arrangement  by 
certain  emotions,  and  that  they  reflect  light  better 
on  account  of  this  re-arrangement.  But  what  gives 
those  emotions  the  power  to  re-arrange  physical  par¬ 
ticles  in  any  way,  and  especially  in  such  a  way  as  to 
cause  them  to  reflect  light  overawingly  ?  It  is  incon¬ 
trovertible  that  a  very  peculiar,  commanding  light  is 
brought  into  the  face  by  the  activity  of  the  upper 
faculties  in  man.  We  are  to  explain  this  light  and 
its  effects,  by  studying  man  as  an  organic  multiplex. 
The  light  is  there,  and  you  know  it  is  there.  We 
see  it.  It  is  a  physical  fact. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  an  earthy,  opaque  look.  ' 
“  O  ye  hapless  two,”  says  Carlyle  of  Charlotte  Cor- 
day  and  Jean  Paul  Marat,  ‘‘mutually  extinctive,  the 
Beautiful  and  the  Squalid,  sleep  ye  well  in  the  Moth¬ 
er’s  bosom  that  bore  you  both.  This  was  the  His 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


47 


tory  of  Charlotte  Corday ;  most  definite,  most  com* 
plete ;  angelic,  demonic  ;  like  a  star.”  (. French 
Revolution,  yoI.  ii.,  book  vi.,  chap,  i.)  Compare  the 
faces  of  Charlotte  Corday  and  Marat. 

Certain  passions  give  a  dark  look  to  the  counte¬ 
nance.  How  do  they  do  that  ?  Is  it  merely  by  a 
re-arrangement  of  the  ultimate  atoms  of  the  skin  and 
of  the  external  parts  of  the  eye  ?  The  astute  mate¬ 
rialist  admits  that  certain  emotions  are  accompanied 
by  such  displacements  of  the  atoms  of  which  the 
body  is  composed  as  permit  the  exterior  of  the  coun¬ 
tenance  to  reflect  light  only  imperfectly.  How  is  it 
that  the  bad  passions  thus  relax  us  ?  It  is  incontro¬ 
vertible  that  earthy  passions  give  an  earthy  look  to  the 
countenance.  The  bestial  man  acquires  an  opaque 
and  peculiarly  repulsive  complexion. 

When  I  stood  once  in  the  Jewish  Wailing-place  in 
Jerusalem,  and  contrasted  the  pure  blood  of  the  Jew 
with  the  coarse  blood  of  the  Arab,  I  had  before  me 

i 

on  the  one  hand,  countenances  singularly  capable  of 
illumination ;  and  on  the  other,  faces  singularly  inca¬ 
pable  of  it.  Say,  if  you  please,  that  I  am  going  off 
scientific  ground  here.  I  affirm  that  I  have  a  scien¬ 
tific  right  to  take  the  monogamistic  Jew  and  the 
poly gamis tic  Arab,  or  the  Old  Testament  and  the 
Koran  put  into  flesh  and  blood  by  long  centuries  of 
experience,  and  to  compare  them.  Not  a  few  chil¬ 
dren  from  some  of  the  best  Jewish  families  on  the 
earth  are  sent  to  Jerusalem  for  education;  and  even 
the  careless  observer  of  the  faces  of  many  of  them 
must  see  that  they  are  pure  in  blood,  and,  as  I  was 


48 


CONSCIENCE. 


compelled  to  think,  of  finer  grain  than  the  Italians 
and  the  Greeks  of  the  Forum  and  the  Acropolis. 
But,  I  said,  “You  have  forgotten  the  English;  you 
have  forgotten  the  Americans ;  ”  and,  as  my  conclu¬ 
sions  were  taking  that  posture,  there  came  into  the 
brown,  crowded  square  two  children  in  English  dress, 
and  began  to  converse  with  the  Jewish  children.  I 
thought,  “  These  are  sons  of  rough  men  probably : 
they  do  not  represent  the  English  or  the  American 
fineness.”  They  were  superior  in  animal  force,  but 
plainly  inferior  in  capacity  for  the  solar  look,  to  the 
Jewish  boys  with  whom  they  conversed  face  to  face. 
I  asked  to  whom  the  outrivalled  children  belonged, 
and  found  they  were  sons  of  one  of  the  most  cul¬ 
tured  men,  indeed,  of  one  of  the  missionaries,  in  the 
Holy  City.  The  Arab,  however,  was  the  greater 
contrast,  —  opaque,  repulsive,  conspicuously  impervi¬ 
ous  to  light  in  his  countenance ;  while,  in  the  best 
specimens,  the  Jew  shone  from  behind  his  physi¬ 
cal  integument  at  times  like  a  light  behind  thin 
translucent  marble.  We  know  that  this  contrast 
exists  in  different  men  we  meet,  and  in  different 
moods  of  the  same  individual.  Men  may  be  made 
of  floss-silk,  and  have  aesthetic  luminousness  in  their 
faces,  and  yet  no  solar  light.  The  darkness  of  the 
Ethiop  face  does  not  hinder  it  from  exhibiting  either 
the  solar  light  or  its  opposite.  It  is  a  wholly  incon¬ 
trovertible  fact,  that  an  earthy  look  comes  from  an 
earthy  mood,  and  a  solar  look  from  a  conscientious. 

But  now,  will  any  one  who  reveres  the  scientific 
method  deny  my  chief  proposition,  that  the  earthy 


SOLAB  SELF-CULTUKE. 


49 


look,  other  things  being  equal,  quails  before  the 
solar  ?  Is  not  that  known  to  ordinary  observation  ? 
No  doubt,  if  a  Csesar  or  a  Napoleon  conies  before 
some  man  of  weak  will,  the  latter,  although  he  may 
be  a  good  man,  —  and  especially  if  he  is  a  goody,  a 
very  different  thing,  —  will  quail.  But  give  the  latter 
the  executive  power  and  intellect  of  your  Ceesar,  and 
what  is  the  result  ?  Other  things  being  equal ,  Caesar's 
eye  goes  down  whenever  it  meets  and  does  not  possess 
the  solar  look.  The  veriest  sick  girl  with  this  solar 
light  behind  her  eyeballs  is  more  than  a  match  for 
Csesar  without  it.  Yes,  Cromwell’s  daughter  was  a 
match  for  him  once,  and  Caesar’s  wife  for  the  man 
whose  finger-tap  overawed  a  Roman  senate.  There 
are  no  forces  known  to  the  lights  of  the  eyes,  that, 
other  things  being  equal,  ever  do  or  can  put  down 
the  solar  light,  even  in  the  sick  and  the  weak.  Poets 
have  celebrated  many  lesser  radiances,  and  occasion¬ 
ally  this  highest  radiance  that  can  belong  to  woman. 
There  are  behind  it  an  awe,  and  a  right  to  command, 
which  distinguish  it  from  all  other  lights. 

We  know  that  the  brute  sees  the  sunset ;  but  does 
*t  feel  its  pensiveness?  No  doubt  the  monsters  that 
tore  each  other  in  the  early  geological  ages  beheld 
the  risings  of  the  suns,  and  their  noons,  and  their 
descendings.  The  eyes  of  many  a  winged  creature 
in  the  night  reflect  as  perfect  images  of  the  stars  as 
did  Newton’s.  But  do  they  appreciate  what  we  call 
beauty,  or  sublimity,  or  natural  law  ?  The  ivorld  is  a 
sealed  book  to  the  brute ;  and  an  archangel  would  say 
that  it  is  to  us .  On  his  vision,  were  he  in  the  world, 


50 


CONSCIENCE. 


might  fall  no  more  than  on  ours ;  but  he  would  read 
as  many  more  meanings  than  we,  as  we  than  the 
brute.  What  is  the  significance  of  this  mysterious, 
commanding,  solar  light  ?  It  is  a  visible  fact,  but  we 
gaze  on  it  apparently  with  brutish,  uncomprehending 
eyes.  We  do  not  intellectually  fathom  it,  and  yet  we 
feel  it  much  as  the  brute  feels  the  authority  of  the 
human  eye. 

Your  pensive,  wailing,  inferior  creature  gazing 
•  into  the  human  face  seems  very  often  to  be  governed 
by  an  awe  that  does  not  arise  from  fear  of  physical 
injury.  There  is  command  in  the  intellectual  light 
when  it  is  contrasted  with  the  merely  animal  light. 
The  poor  four-footed  brute  goes  away  with,  it  may 
be,  a  vague  sense  of  worship,  or  of  affection  at  last, 
if  you  draw  it  towards  you.  The  canine  creatures 
can  thus  be  tamed ;  and  untamable  beasts  can  be 
looked  out  of  countenance,  —  even  your  lion  and 
your  tiger,  if  you  gaze  steadily  upon  them,  contrast¬ 
ing  the  human  radiance  with  the  animal.  Now,  just 
as  that  four-footed  brute  may  feel,  looking  into  your 
eyes,  so  I  confess  I  have  felt  sometimes  when  looking 
into  the  eyes  of  those  better  than  myself.  I  have 
felt  brutish;  I  have  felt  my  inferiority;  I  have 
quailed,  I  confess  it,  before  eyes  which  I  thought 
had  behind  them  a  holier  light  than  mine  have  ever 
shown.  I  sometimes  compare  my  mood  at  such  in¬ 
stants  with  that  of  your  creature  that  cannot  speak, 
and  that  slinks  away  with  a  sense  of  inferiority.  I 
know  that  this  light  is  my  master.  I  do  not  quite 
understand  the  light.  The  poor  brute  does  not  un> 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


51 


derstand  the  radiance  in  the  human  eyes,  but  confesses 
that  this  light  is  above  it ;  and  so  I  have  felt  that  in 
the  solar  radiance  there  is  something  above  all  my 
earthiness.  There  is  no  man  that  can  look  on  what 
we  call  the  solar  light  in  the  human  countenance,  and 
feel  that  it  is  genuine,  and  not  reverence  it.  There 
is  a  natural  awe  in  its  presence.  What  does  this 
incontrovertible  fact  mean?  There  are  only  a  few 
animals  so  low  that  they  cannot  be  looked  out  of 
countenance ;  and  there  are  only  a  few  men  so  low 
that  they  cannot  be  looked  out  of  countenance 
also. 

As  the  brute  sees  the  sunset,  and  does  not  under¬ 
stand  it,  gazes  upon  the  glory  and  beauty,  and  finds 
it  a  sealed  book,  so  we  see  but  do  not  appreciate 
this  marvellous  capacity  of  man’s  countenance  to 
clothe  itself  in  solar  light ;  and  yet  in  it  we  are  look¬ 
ing  upon  something  which  in  another  age  will  be 
better  understood  in  the  name  of  science.  So  much 
is  already  incontestably  known  :  that  the  solar  light 
exists ;  that  all  other  light  quails  before  it ;  that  it 
springs  from  the  heights  of  conscience  ;  and  that  the 
only  complete  and  the  only  victorious  self-culture 
must  be  solar  self-culture.  Even  if  we  were  com¬ 
pelled  to  pause  here,  we  should  have  attained  a 
point  of  vision  where,  as  Goethe  said  when  he 
climbed  Vesuvius,  one  look  backward  takes  awav 
all  the  fatigue  of  the  ascent,  and  is  a  regenerating 
bath.  Our  age  believes  in  culture  ;  a  more  scientific 
age  will  believe  in  solar  self-culture.  On  the  height 
tc  which  our  inductive  research  has  now  carried  us 


52 


CONSCIENCE. 


will  be  erected  tabernacles  to  the  honor  of  the  only 
culture  by  which,  under  natural  law,  the  yet  opaque 
face  of  civilization  can  find  transfiguring  and  com¬ 
manding  radiance. 

What  of  the  Transfiguration?  Was  that  an  ex¬ 
ample  of  solar  light  ?  The  clouds  are  slowly  parting 
above  this  theme,  and  is  it  possible  that  we  have  not 
yet  reached  its  summit  ?  Is  this  outlook  of  ours  only 
from  a  mountain  range  so  low  as  to  be  hardly  a  ves¬ 
tibule  ?  There  is  a  solar  light ;  and  what  if,  adhering 
now  to  all  that  science  proves  concerning  it,  we  gaze 
up  the  Alps,  so  unexpectedly  uncovered,  as  the 
vapors  part  themselves  above  the  stupendous  veiled 
summits  of  revelation  ?  Is  it  possible  that  their 
height  itself  has  kept  them  obscured  until  we  had 
little  knowledge  of  their  existence  ? 

I  am  asking  you  here  and  now  only  to  take  scrip¬ 
tural  facts  as  statements  of  the  Christian  point  of 
view.  If  there  is  any  man  here  who  regards  the  his¬ 
tory  as  mythical,  even  he  will  allow  me  to  use  it  to 
show  what  Christianity  believes.  I  am  scientifically 
authorized  to  make  reference  to  it  all  to  indicate 
what  has  been  taught  on  the  topic  of  the  solar  ra¬ 
diance. 

It  is  recorded  that  in  an  Eastern  city  a  martyr  was 
once  tried,  and  as  all  they  who  sat  in  the  council 
looked  steadfastly  on  him  they  beheld  his  face,  as  it 
were  the  face  of  an  angel.  Is  it  possible  that  the 
solar  light  present  in  this  case,  and  in  approximately 
similar  cases  in  our  day,  is  the  same  thing  in  each  ? 
It  is  recorded  also,  as  we  remember,  now  that  W'e 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


53 


allow  our  minds  to  sweep  through  the  vistas  of  his¬ 
torical  examples,  that  a  lawgiver,  who  yet  rules  the 

centuries,  once  had,  as  he  came  down  from  a  certain 

_  • 

mount,  a  face  that  shone.  The  old  Greek  used  to 
inquire  with  intensest  philosophical  interest  what 
that  light  was  which  appeared  once,  not  in  the  face 
only,  but  in  the  hands  and  in  the  feet  and  in  the 
garments,  of  the  only  Member  of  the  human  race 
who  hjis  ever  shown  us  solar  light  at  its  best.  The 
Greek  asked  in  the  early  days  of  Christianity, 
Whence  that  light?  There  is  incontrovertibly  a 
solar  light  which  fills  the  faces  of  a  few  men  and 
women  in  our  day.  Dante,  I  take  it,  is  looking 
towards  this  fact  when  he  says,  “  That  which  in 
heaven  is  flame,  on  earth  is  smoke.”  Is  it  possible 
that  the  solar  look  which  comes  into  the  counte¬ 
nance  whenever  the  loftier  zones  of  feeling  are  in 
full  action  is  of  the  same  sort  with  that  which 
appeared  in  the  face  of  Dante’s  Beatrice,  delighted 
to  do  good ;  and  in  the  face  of  Him  whose  counte¬ 
nance  was  like  that  of  an  angel ;  and  in  the  face  of 
Moses;  and  in  the  unfathomed  symbolisms  of  the 
Transfiguration?  Is  it  of  the  same  sort  with  that 
light  which  fills  the  world  of  those  who  have  no  need 
of  the  sun,  because  the  face  of  the  Lamb  doth  lighten 
them,  and  the  glory  of  God  is  the  lamp  of  their  tab¬ 
ernacle  ? 

These  questions  may  well  blanch  the  cheeks  ;  but 
they  are  to  be  studied  in  the  spirit  of  science,  if  we 
are  to  think  with  any  freedom  or  breadth.  Surely, 
here  is  a  train  of  investigation  not  often  followed 


b4 


CONSCIENCE. 


in  detail.  Having  read  to  you  twelve  propositions 
drawn  up  from  the  point  of  view  of  science,  let  me 
read  twelve  drawn  up  from  the  point  of  view  of  un¬ 
adulterated  Christianity. 

1.  It  is  historically  known  that  the  early  Chris¬ 
tians  regarded  the  possession  of  the  solar,  command¬ 
ing  look,  as  a  sign  of  the  possession  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Stephen,  when  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  had 
a  face  like  that  of  an  angel.  When  Moses  came 
down  from  the  mount  his  face  shone. 

2.  At  the  Transfiguration  this  solar  light  had  its 
supreme  manifestation. 

3.  That  light  was  perhaps  a  revelation  of  the  ca¬ 
pacities  of  the  ethereal  enswathement  of  the  soul, 
and  of  a  spiritual  force  acting  through  the  physical 
organization. 

To  those  who  were  present  at  the  Transfiguration, 
the  Cross  did  not  seem  other  than  the  voluntary  hu¬ 
miliation  of  Him  who  was  stretched  upon  it.  A  rev¬ 
elation  of  some  of  the  capacities  of  the  spiritual 
body,  which  death,  according  to  Ulrici,  separates 
from  the  flesh,  was  made  to  three  of  the  disciples ; 
and  they  were  the  three  who  afterwards  witnessed 
the  agony  in  the  garden,  and  were  nearest  to  the 
Crucifixion.  They  were  prepared  for  the  witness¬ 
ing  of  the  agony  by  the  previous  revelation  of  the 
glory  of  the  body  which  was  transfigured. 

There  was  a  cloud  which  appeared  in  the  Transfig¬ 
uration,  and  it  is  recorded  that  the  disciples  feared  as 
they  entered  into  that  cloud.  It  is  said,  also,  that 
when  He  who  was  transfigured  walked  once  up  the 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


55 


slope  from  Jordan  to  Bethlehem,  the  disciples  fol¬ 
lowed  him,  and  were  afraid.  The  light  which  ap¬ 
peared  in  the  Transfiguration  appeared  again  in  the 
Ascension  ;  and  the  cloud  that  overshadowed  the  for¬ 
mer  was  the  chariot  of  the  latter. 

We  have  considered  here  ( Biology ,  Lecture  XIII.) 
the  schemes  of  thought  which  assert  that  there  may 
be  three  things  in  the  universe,  and  not  merely  two : 
matter  and  mind,  and  a  middle  somewhat,  ordinarily 
called  the  ether,  and  at  least  not  atomic,  as  what 
we  call  matter  is.  We  know  how  Ulrici  and  others 
speak  of  an  ethereal  enswathement  of  the  soul,  and 
of  a  spiritual  body. 

What  if  the  cloud  which  appeared  at  the  Trans¬ 
figuration  was  some  revelation  to  the  human  sense  of 
that  ether  which  Richter  calls  the  home  of  souls? 
What  if  the  transfiguring  light  was  but  a  revelation 
of  the  capacities  of  the  spiritual  being,  enswathed 
within  the  flesh  as  light  is  enswathed  within  the  flee¬ 
cy  tabernacle  of  the  translucent  flying  clouds  in  the 
noon  yonder  above  our  heads  ?  Mysterious,  you  say? 
But  after  all  we  must  adhere  to  the  principle  that 
every  change  must  have  an  adequate  cause.  As 
Dante  says,  there  is  smoke  on  earth ;  the  solar  light 
in  the  human  body  is  dim  here ;  but  what  is  this 
flame,  when  at  its  best  ?  The  light  of  the  fire  that 
shines  in  the  eyes  of  a  good  man  or  woman,  how 
bright  would  it  be  if  their  goodness  could  be  en¬ 
larged  to  the  measure  of  that  of  the  Soul  that  never 
sinned?  How  would  it  illuminate  then  the  whole 
frame  ?  Is  there  unity  of  kind  between  the  light,  that 


56 


CONSCIENCE. 


we  call  the  solar  look  in  scientific  parlance,  and  the 
radiance  that  filled  Stephen’s  face,  or  that  of  Moses  ? 
A  spiritual  force  was  concerned  in  the  two  cases,  and 
its  powers  are  yet  unchanged.  Was  not  the  same 
force  concerned  in  the  Transfiguration  also?  Was 
not  one  object  of  that  event  to  make  a  revelation  of 
the  hidden  glory  of  our  Lord’s  Person  ? 

Are  we  going  too  far  when  we  say  that  these  topics 
which  interested  the  old  Greeks  so  passionately  are 
worth  looking  at  as  the  vestibule  to  the  majestic 
temple  of  conscience?  Activity  of  the  upper  zones 
of  feeling  is  what  causes  this  peculiar  light  in  our 
little  experience  of  it.  We  have  but  the  twilight,  a 
dim  scintillation  of  this  radiance.  But  we  know  that 
what  little  we  have  of  it  comes  from  the  innermost 
holiest  of  conscience.  Raphael  studied  the  Trans¬ 
figuration,  and  his  painted  conception  of  it  was  borne 
aloft  above  his  funeral  bier.  Are  we  not  in  the  ad¬ 
vances  of  science  obtaining  some  views  of  it  which 
his  canvas  cannot  show  us  ? 

It  is  recorded  of  our  Lord,  that,  as  he  prayed,  the 
fashion  of  his  countenance  was  altered,  and  his  face 
did  shine  as  the  sun,  and  his  raiment  became  white 
and  glistering,  so  as  no  fuller  on  earth  can  white 
them. 

4.  As  our  Lord’s  body  was  human,  it  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  its  mysterious,  overawing  capa¬ 
bility  of  receiving  illumination  from  within  by  spir¬ 
itual  forces  must  be  supposed  to  be  possessed  in 
some  degree  by  every  human  body. 

5.  An  obscurest  form  of  perhaps  the  same  sol  ax 
light  is  yet  seen  occasionally  among  men. 


SOLAR  SELF-CULTURE. 


57 


6.  We  know  that  the  light  arises  from  the  blissful 
supremacy  of  conscience,  and  the  activity  of  all  the 
higher  powers  of  the  soul. 

7.  As  the  Scriptures  made  the  possession  of  this 
light  one  of  the  signs  of  the  possession  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  in  the  scriptural  days,  we  must  infer  that  this 
light  is  such  a  sign  in  these  days. 

8.  The  innermost  holiest  of  conscience,  in  bliss¬ 
ful  supremacy,  is  therefore  known  to  science  as  well 
as  revelation,  as  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

9.  But  the  Holy  Spirit  was  shed  forth  by  Him  who 
was  the  Light  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometli 
into  the  world. 

10.  The  modern  solar  light  and  that  Light  are 
therefore  identified. 

11.  But  the  solar  light  is  scientifically  known  to 
be  the  only  commanding  light;  and  therefore  the 
Light  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the 
world  is  scientifically  known  to  be  the  only  command¬ 
ing  light. 

12.  The  only  complete  and  the  only  victorious 
self-culture  is  scientifically  known  to  be  solar  self¬ 
culture  ;  but  solar  self-culture  and  Christian  self-cul¬ 
ture,  so  far  forth  as  both  are  solar,  are  identical ;  and 
both  are  known  to  science  as  solar  so  far  forth  onl) 
as  they  originate  in  the  innermost  holiest  of  con¬ 
science. 

Harvard  yonder,  Matthew  Arnold,  Stuart  Mill,  all 
ranks  of  modern  scholars,  believe  in  culture.  But 
there  is  only  one  form  of  culture  that  gives  suprem¬ 
acy,  and  that  is  the  form  which  produces  the  solar 


58 


CONSCIENCE. 


look ;  and  the  solar  look  comes  only  from  the  Light 
that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometli  into  the  world. 
It  may  he  incontrovertibly  proved  by  the  coolest  induc¬ 
tion  from  fixed  natural  law,  that  the  highest  culture 
must  be  that  through  which  the  solar  look  shines,  and 
that  this  look  is  possible  only  when  there  exists  in 
the  soul  glad  self-surrender  to  the  innermost  holiest 
of  Conscience.  In  that  innermost  holiest,  Christian¬ 
ity  finds  a  personal  Omnipresence.  Culture  should 
believe  in  the  law  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest.  Two 
lights  conflict,  —  the  earthy  and  the  solar.  Your 
eyes  filled  with  poetic  rapture,  your  loftiest  attitudes 
of  merely  aesthetic  or  intellectual  culture,  quail,  other 
things  being  equal,  before  the  solar  look.  Here  is  a 
fact  of  science :  a  visible,  physical,  haughty  circum¬ 
stance  of  yet  unfathomed  significance ;  an  unexplored 
remainder  on  which  what  calls  itself  culture,  and 
quails,  may  do  well  to  fasten  prolonged  attention. 

“  Satan  .  .  .  dilated  stood, 

Like  Teneriffe  or  Atlas  unremoved ; 

His  stature  reached  the  sky,  and  on  his  crest 
Sat  Horror  plumed.  .  .  . 

The  Eternal  .  .  . 

Hung  forth  in  heaven  His  golden  scales,  yet  seen 
Betwixt  Astraea  and  the  Scorpion  sign, 

.  .  .  The  fiend  looked  up,  and  knew 
His  mounted  scale  aloft ;  nor  more  ;  but  fled 
Murmuring,  and  with  him  fled  the  shades  of  night.” 

Milton,  Paradise  Lost ,  iv.  985 


[Applause.] 


m. 

THE  PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MORAL 

LAW. 


THE  EIGHTY-THIRD  LECTURE  IN  THE  BOSTON  MONDAY 
LECTURESHIP,  DELIVERED  IN  TREMONT  TEMPLE, 

OCT.  15. 


Quid  enim  aliud  est  natura,  quam  Deus,  et  divina  latio,  toti 
inundo  et  partibus  ejus  inserta? —  Seneca:  Be  Bene/.,  iv.  7. 


So  lange  das  "Wort  Gott  in  einer  Sprache  noch  dauert  und  tont, 
bo  richtet  es  das  Menschenauge  nacb  oben  auf.  —  Richter:  Levana. 


m. 

THE  PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OP  THE 

MORAL  LAW. 

PRELUDE  ON  CURRENT  EVENTS. 

The  parliamentary  expenses  of  the  Brighton  rail¬ 
way  in  England  were  fifteen  thousand  dollars  a  mile. 
George  III.  sometimes  expended  for  purposes  of  polit¬ 
ical  corruption  the  money  voted  to  him  as  king,  and 
called  his  gifts  golden  pills.  We  all  remember  very 
well  that  Lord  Chatham’s  measures  of  reform  were 
often  spoiled  by  Lord  Bute,  and  that  the  latter  fre¬ 
quently  succeeded  by  striking  the  great  statesman’s 
followers  with  a  golden  club.  It  is  said  that  Lord 
Bute,  in  a  single  day,  issued  to  the  order  of  his 
agents  twenty-five  thousand  pounds.  On  one  oc¬ 
casion  a  government  loan  was  raised  among  his 
adherents  by  private  subscription,  on  such  terms  as 
to  distribute  among  them  three  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  pounds  of  public  money.  In  the  days  of 
the  Pensioned  Parliament,  peerages  were  bought 
and  sold,  and  now  and  then  the  amounts  paid  for 
them  entered  in  the  books  of  the  exchequer.  It 

was  very  common  to  buy  a  member  of  the  Lower 

61 


62 


CONSCIENCE. 


House,  and  even  a  lord  was  sometimes  sold  over 
his  chair  as  you  sell  goods  over  the  counter  of  a 
stall.  It  is  altogether  too  early  yet  to  forget  politi¬ 
cal  corruption  in  England;  but  since  the  reform 
measures  of  1832,  civil-service  amelioration  has  taken 
such  hold  of  Great  Britain,  that  it  is  now  almost  an 
unheard-of  procedure  to  sell,  or  to  attempt  to  buy,  a 
member  of  Parliament.  The  corruption  which  existed 
in  Great  Britain  during  the  railway  mania  was  per¬ 
haps  as  great  as  that  in  the  United  States  in  the 
times  of  our  Credit  Mobilier.  During  the  struggles 
with  Napoleon,  corruption  in  English  public  life 
was  far-reaching  in  every  political  department. 
Macaulay  says,  however,  that  even  then  the  judi¬ 
ciary  was  not  corrupt  in  England,  and  that  com¬ 
merce  was  generally  very  sound.  It  is  to  be 
remembered  that  we  have  an  elective  judiciary  in 
twenty-two  States,  and  that  probably  our  miserable 
civil  service  has  affected  the  judiciary  more  than  the 
judges  were  ever  influenced  in  England  by  political 
corruption.  Nevertheless  there  was  a  nobility  in 
England,  depending  largely  on  the  civil  service  for 
places  for  sons  not  put  into  position  by  the  law  of 
primogeniture.  Second  sons,  third  and  fourth,  and 
so  on,  were  to  be  pensioned  in  a  state  church  or  in  a 
political  office,  or  in  the  army  or  navy.  If  our  judi¬ 
ciary  is  a  more  corrupt  body  than  the  English  ever 
was,  we  have  no  upper  class  with  strong  interests  at 
stake  in  the  existence  of  corruption.  Therefore  the 
field  is  perhaps  not  a  very  much  more  difficult  one 
here  now  than  it  was  in  England  in  1832,  for  the 
progress  of  civil-service  reform. 


PHYSICAL  TANGIBLEKESS  OF  THE  MORAL  LAW.  63 


How,  then,  did  this  change  occur  in  England  ?  A 
Congress  meets  to-day  at  Washington,  called  together 
by  the  first  American  President  who  has  attacked 
what  George  William  Curtis  calls  the  “consuming 
gangrene  ”  of  our  public  life,  office-holding  control 
of  politics.  [Applause.]  This  English  history,  this 
black  page  and  the  present  white  page,  are  they  not 
worth  attention  from  Congress  and  from  us?  Did 
the  black  page  immediately  precede  the  white?  or 
were  there  some  gray  leaves  interspersed,  some 
blotched  and  almost  ragged  pages,  between  the  dark 
record  of  corruption  and  the  present  honest  civil 
service  in  England  ?  As  early  as  1832  reform  be¬ 
gan  ;  but  it  was  not  until  about  the  year  1853,  when 
Sir  Stafford  Northcote  drew  up  his  definite  proposi¬ 
tions,  that  civil  service  reform  grew  to  be  a  victori¬ 
ous  cause  in  England.  There  have  been,  however, 
twenty  years  of  crescent  success  in  Great  Britain  for 
civil  service  reform.  The  result  is,  that  to-day  the 
contrast  of  American  and  English  politics  is  vastly 
to  our  disadvantage,  while  the  contrast  of  Ameri¬ 
can  politics  under  Washington  and  Jefferson  with 
English  politics  of  the  same  period  would  have  been 
greatly  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  English.  About 
the  time  when  the  reform  measures  were  passed  in 
Great  Britain,  Andrew  Jackson  introduced  here  the 
spoils  system.  And  now  that  twenty  years  of  vigor¬ 
ous  action  on  the  part  of  the  executive  of  Great 
Britain  has  shown  what  can  be  done  for  civil  service 
reform  there,  why  should  we  not  cast  a  sharp  glance 
upon  that  page  of  English  precedent,  when  the  topio 


64 


CONSCIENCE. 


of  civil-service  reform  comes  before  America,  with 
its  fatter  and  vaster  political  spoils,  as  a  question  al¬ 
most  of  life  or  death  ? 

What  is  the  particular  regulation  of  office-holding 
in  Great  Britain?  The  premier  appoints,  of  course, 
his  colleagues  in  his  cabinet,  with  the  advice  of  the 
King  or  Queen.  Then  the  cabinet  together  choose 
subsidiary  officers  just  under  them.  Only  about 
thirty  men  in  the  upper  ranges  of  the  civil  service 
are  changed  when  the  party  or  the  ministry  changes. 
With  very  few  and  now  decreasing  exceptions,  the 
lower  ranges  are  filled  by  competitive  examinations. 
A  man  once  in  position  expects  to  keep  his  place 
during  good  behavior,  and  to  be  promoted  for  merit. 
The  consequence  is,  that  the  control  of  politics  has 
been  taken  out  of  the  hands  of  party  in  Great 
Britain,  so  far  as  office-holding  is  concerned,  and  put 
into  the  hands  of  the  people,  where  it  belongs.  To¬ 
day  public  sentiment  probably  has  a  greater  power 
over  parliamentary  action  than  over  congressional : 
at  least,  its  effects  are  more  immediately  perceived. 
A  change  can  be  brought  about  more  quickly  in  the 
Parliament  than  in  Congress  by  a  haughty,  command¬ 
ing  public  sentiment.  The  reason  is  that  patronage 
is  not  left  in  the  hands  of  members  of  Parliament  to 
corrupt  the  country  through  every  small  office. 

We  must  beware  of  demagogues  who  clamor  against 
an  office-holding  aristocracy,  and  who  assure  us  that 
civil-service  competitive  examinations  would  result 
in  the  institution  of  a  class  having  peculiar  privi¬ 
leges.  That  class  in  England  serves  Lord  Beacons* 


PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MOKAL  LAW.  65 


field  to-day  and  Gladstone  to-morrow.  How  peculiar 
are  its  privileges  ?  on  which  side  is  it  ?  It  is  a  great 
proiession;  it  has  learned  how  to  do  its  work;  it 
keeps  in  place  although  ministries  change.  Just  so, 
if  we  had  such  an  office-holding  class  in  this  country, 
it  would  serve  both  political  parties,  do  its  work 
well,  and  could  not  be  bought  and  sold  from  custom¬ 
house  to  post-office,  or  become  a  standing  bribe  in 
Congress.  We  must  not  allow  the  office  of  an 
American  senator  to  become  a  gift  enterprise.  As 
a  reformed  civil  service  would  be  filled  by  merit,  and 
as  competition  for  places  in  it  would  be  open  to 
everybody,  we  should  have  a  class  serving  both 
political  parties,  and  therefore  no  aristocracy  at  all. 

We  ought  to  conduct  the  mechanical  part  of  our 
governmental  work  as  a  great  factory  does  its  busi¬ 
ness,  by  retaining  the  servants  who  have  shown  them¬ 
selves  capable.  When  ten  or  twelve  acres  of  factory 
floors  change  owners,  the  shrewd  men  in  Boston  and 
New  York  who  manage  the  enterprises  that  move  the 
whirring  looms  on  those  floors  do  not  change  all  their 
foremen  nor  all  their  operatives.  They  know  what 
men  have  done  well,  and  keep  them  in  place.  Our 
national  business  is  to  be  managed  for  the  benefit  of 
the  nation,  and  not  for  that  of  a  party.  [Applause.] 
It  is  to  be  managed  by  the  people  that  own  the  whir¬ 
ring  looms,  and  not  by  the  men  who  are  speculators 
at  the  best,  and  who  make  a  business  of  fleecing  each 
other  as  rivals.  Of  course  there  will  never  come,  in 
America,  any  peace  or  purity  in  politics  until  the  day 
of  the  disestablishment  of  the  machine  in  politics, 
[Applause.] 


66 


CONSCIENCE. 


THE  LECTURE. 

After  Robespierre  bad  choked  the  Seine  with  the 
vainly  whimpering  heads  sheared  away  by  the  guil¬ 
lotine,  there  came  an  hour  when  a  death-tumbril  con¬ 
taining  himself  was  trundled  toward  the  fatal  French 
axe.  Carlyle  tells  us  that  the  streets  were  crowded 
from  the  Palais  de  Justice  to  the  Place  de  la  Revolu¬ 
tion,  the  very  roofs  and  ridge-tiles  budding  forth 
human  curiosity,  in  strange  gladness.  The  soldiers 
with  their  sabres  pointed  out  Robespierre,  as  the 
crowd  pressed  close  about  the  cart.  A  French 
mother,  remembering  what  rivers  of  blood  that  man’s 
right  hand  had  wrung  out  of  the  throat  of  France, 
springs  on  the  tumbril,  clutching  the  side  of  it  with 
one  hand,  and,  waving  the  other  sibyl-like,  exclaims, 
“  Your  death  intoxicates  me  with  joy.”  The  almost 
glazed  eyes  of  the  would-be  suicide  Robespierre  open. 
“  Scelerat ,  go  down,  go  down  to  hell  with  the  curses 
of  all  wives  and  mothers !  ”  A  little  while  after  Sam¬ 
son  did  his  work,  and  a  shout  raised  itself  as  the 
head  was  lifted,  —  a  shout,  says  history,  which  pro¬ 
longs  itself  yet  through  Europe,  and  down  to  our 
day.  (Carlyle,  The  French  Revolution ,  vol.  ii., 
book  viii.,  chap,  vii.,  “Go  down  to.”)  That  word 
“  dozen  ”  will  never  be  understood  by  us  until  we  con¬ 
trast  it  with  the  “  up,”  with  which  men  salute  the 
Gracchi  and  the  Phocions,  the  Lafayettes,  the  Wash¬ 
ingtons  and  the  Hampdens,  and  which  prolongs  it¬ 
self  mysteriously  in  history.  The  word  udown,” 
once  uttered  by  the  ages,  is  rarely  reversed ;  and  the 


PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MORAL  LAW.  57 


word  44  up,”  once  looking  haughtily  on  that  word 
k4down,”  very  rarely,  in  history,  changes  its  coun¬ 
tenance. 

There  appear  to  be  behind  these  two  words  inex¬ 
orable  natural  laws.  Is  it  possible  to  discover  any  of 
them  ? 

1.  Instinctive  physical  gestures  accompany  the 
action  of  strong  feelings. 

2.  It  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  strongest  moral  emo¬ 
tions,  that  the  general  direction  of  the  physical  ges¬ 
tures  which  they  prompt  is  either  up  or  down. 

3.  By  the  operation  of  a  fixed  natural  law  of  the 
human  organism,  we  hang  the  head  in  shame  or  acute 
self-disapproval. 

4.  By  the  operation  of  a  fixed  natural  law,  we  hold 
the  head  erect  when  conscious  of  good  intentions,  or 
acute  self-approval. 

5.  It  is  a  physical  fact,  demonstrable  by  the  widest 
induction,  that  the  gestures  prompted  by  the  blissful 
supremacy  of  conscience  have  their  general  direction 
upward,  and  give  the  human  form  a  reposeful  and 
commanding  attitude. 

6.  It  is  also  a  physical  fact,  demonstrable  by  the 
widest  induction,  that  the  gestures  prompted  by  the 
opposite  relations  to  conscience  have  their  general 
direction  downwards,  and  give  the  human  form  an 
unreposeful  and  more  or  less  grovelling  attitude. 

7.  Other  things  being  equal,  the  latter  attitude 
alway  quails  before  the  former. 

8.  By  fixed  natural  law  the  upward  gestures  in¬ 
duced  by  an  approving  conscience  and  the  activity 


68 


CONSCIENCE. 


of  the  higher  faculties  are  accompanied  by  a  sense  of 
repose,  of  unfettered  elasticity,  and  of  a  tendency  to 
physical  levitation. 

9.  By  fixed  natural  law  the  downward  gestures 
induced  by  a  disapproving  conscience  are  accompa¬ 
nied  by  a  sense  of  unrest,  of  fettered  activity,  and  of 
a  tendency  to  delevitation. 

10.  In  some  of  the  most  celebrated  works  of  great 
artists,  the  human  form  is  represented  as  in  a  state 
of  physical  levitation ;  but  this  is  always  pictured  as 
accompanied  and  caused  by  the  blissful  supremacy 
of  conscience  and  of  the  higher  faculties. 

11.  It  will  be  found,  on  an  examination  of  personal 
consciousness,  that  there  is  in  the  artistic  sense  a 
feeling  that  forms  exhibiting  the  blissful  supremacy 
of  conscience  and  of  the  higher  faculties  will  float,  and 
that  forms  which  do  not  exhibit  these  traits  will  not. 

12.  So  deep  is  the  instinct  concerned  in  the  up¬ 
ward  gestures  produced  by  an  approving,  and  the 
downward  produced  by  a  disapproving  conscience, 
that  history  contains  large  numbers  of  alleged  in¬ 
stances  of  the  physical  levitation  of  the  human  form 
in  moral  trance. 

13.  Without  deciding  whether  these  cases  are 
authentic  facts  or  not,  their  existence  shows  the 
intensity  of  this  instinct,  and  the  great  significance 
of  the  inexorable  natural  law  which  it  reveals. 

14.  In  the  existence  of  the  instinctive  upward  and 
downward  physical  gestures  accompanying  the  ap¬ 
proval  and  disapproval  of  conscience,  natural  law 
reveals  a  distinction  between  up  and  down,  higher 


PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MOBAL  LAW.  69 


and  lower,  in  moral  emotion;  and,  in  doing  that, 
founds  an  aristocracy,  strictly  so  called,  or  govern¬ 
ment  by  the  best,  and  determines  that  it  shall  rule ; 
and  these  instinctive  gestures,  occurring  according 
to  natural  law,  are  a  proclamation  of  that  aris¬ 
tocracy,  —  the  only  one  recognized  by  nature,  and  the 
only  one  that  will  endure.  •  [Applause.] 

15.  It  will  be  found  that  all  the  instances  in  human 
experience  of  the  distinction  between  up  and  down 
and  higher  and  lower,  as  thus  defined  by  observation, 
may  be  summarized  under  a  law  of  moral  gravitation 
proceeding  from  conscience. 

16.  Moral  gravitation,  therefore,  is  as.  well  known 
to  exist,  and  is  as  tangible,  as  physical  gravitation. 

17.  But  all  law  in  nature  is  but  the  uniform  action 
Df  an  Omnipresent  Personal  Will. 

18.  The  tangibleness  of  the  moral  law  in  conscience 
is  scientifically  known,  therefore,  to  be  identical  with 
the  tangibleness  of  an  Omnipresent  Personal  Will. 

19.  Moral  gravitation  is  thus  in,  but  not  of,  the  soul. 

20.  There  is,  therefore,  in  man  a  Somewhat  or 
Some  One  not  of  him,  and  spiritually,  and  in  a  signifi¬ 
cant  sense  physically,  tangible  through  conscience. 

Ascending  that  stairway  of  propositions,  I  have 
not  asked  you  to  pause  to  converse  on  the  balus¬ 
trades;  but,  assuming  that  we  have  gone  up  the 
height  together,  let  us,  now  that  we  stand  here,  look 
back,  and  make  sure  that  all  our  steps  were  on  the 
adamant.  Take  no  partisan  witness,  however,  in  our 
examination  of  this  case  before  the  learned  jurors  in 
this  assembly.  You  say  that  I  am  a  lawyer  making  a 


70 


CONSCIENCE. 


plea  for  a  foregone  conclusion !  Is  William  Shak- 
speare  a  partisan  ?  Did  he  know  any  thing  of  human 
nature  ?  The  heaviness  of  the  soul  of  a  man  who  has 
done  evil,  is  that  recognized  by  William  Shakspeare  ? 

Imagine  that  this  Temple  is  Bosworth  battle-field. 
There  is  the  tent  of  Richmond,  and  here  the  tent  of 
Richard.  William  Shakspeare  shall  guide  us  in  our 
study  of  natural  laws  in  these  two  tents.  He  does 
not  look  through  partisan  lenses.  He  is  no  theolo¬ 
gian.  What  are  these  forms  which  rise  in  the  dead 
midnight  between  the  two  tents  ?  There  are  eleven 
ghosts  here.  Shakspeare  is  behind  every  one  of 
them.  They  utter  nothing  that  he  does  not  put  into 
their  lips;  when  they  speak,  he  speaks;  and  some 
of  us  have  been  taught  to  believe  that  when  Shak 
speare  speaks,  Nature  speaks. 

“  Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul  to-morrow ; 

Think  how  thou  stabb’dst  me  in  my  prime  of  youth. 

At  Tewksbury  :  despair  therefore,  and  die.” 

So  speaks  the  first  ghost  at  Richard’s  tent. 

“Be  cheerful,  Richmond;  for  the  wronged  souls 
Of  butchered  princes  fight  in  thy  behalf : 

King  Henry’s  issue,  Richmond,  comforts  thee.” 

So  speaks  the  same  ghost  at  Richmond’s  tent. 

“  When  I  was  mortal,  my  anointed  body 
By  thee  was  punched  full  of  deadly  holes. 

Think  on  the  Tower  and  me ;  despair  and  die : 

Harry  the  Sixth  bids  thee  despair  and  die.” 

So  speaks  the  second  ghost  at  Richard’s  tent. 


PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MORAL  LAW.  11 


“  Virtuous  and  holy,  be  thou  conqueror !  ” 

So  speaks  the  same  ghost  at  Richmond's  tent. 

“  Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul  to-morrow,  — 

I  that  was  washed  to  death  with  fulsome  wine, 

Poor  Clarence,  by  thy  guile  betrayed  to  death  1 
To-morrow  in  the  battle  think  on  me, 

And  fall  thy  edgeless  sword;  despair  and  die.” 

So  speaks  the  third  ghost  at  Richard’s  tent. 

“  Good  angels  guard  thy  battle!  Live  and  flourish !  ” 

So  speaks  the  same  ghost  at  Richmond’s  tent. 

“Let  us  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul  to-morrow.” 

So  speak  the  ghosts  of  Rivers,  Grey,  and  Vaughan, 
at  Richard’s  tent. 

“Awake,  and  think  our  wrongs  in  Richard’s  bosom 
Will  conquer  him !  —  Awake,  and  win  the  day.” 

So  speak  the  same  ghosts  at  Richmond’s  tent. 

The  ghost  of  Hastings  rises.  The  ghosts  of  the 
two  young  princes  rise. 

“  Dream  on  thy  cousins  smother’d  in  the  Tower. 

Let  us  be  lead  within  thy  bosom,  Richard, 

And  iveigh  thee  down  to  ruin,  shame,  and  death ! 

Thy  nephews’  souls  bid  thee  despair  and  die.  — 

Sleep,  Richmond,  sleep  in  peace,  and  wake  in  joy: 
Edward’s  unhappy  sons  do  bid  thee  flourish.” 

The  ghost  of  Queen  Anne  rises. 

“  Richard,  thy  wife,  that  wretched  Anne  thy  wife, 

That  never  slept  a  quiet  hour  with  thee, 

Now  fills  thy  sleep  with  perturbations. 

To-morrow,  in  the  battle,  think  on  me, 

And  fall  thy  powerless  arm  ;  despair  and  die.  — 


72 


CONSCIENCE. 


Thou,  quiet  soul,  sleep  thou  a  quiet  sleep, 

Dream  of  success  and  happy  victory ; 

Thy  adversary’s  wife  doth  pray  for  thee.” 

The  ghost  of  Buckingham  rises. 

“  The  first  was  I  that  helped  thee  to  the  crown : 

Oh,  in  the  battle  think  on  Buckingham, 

And  die  in  terror  of  thy  guiltiness ! 

God  and  good  angels  fight  on  Richmond’s  side ; 

But  Richard  fall  in  height  of  all  his  pride.” 

The  ghosts  vanish. 

Is  this  natural  ?  or  supernatural  ?  or  both,  and  the 
one  because  it  is  the  other  ?  [Applause.] 

Your  Richard  wakes  yonder  in  his  tent. 

“  O  coward  conscience,  how  thou  dost  afflict  me !  — 

The  lights  burn  blue.  It  is  now  dead  midnight : 

Cold  fearful  drops  stand  on  my  trembling  fiesh. 

I  am  a  villain ;  yet  I  lie,  I  am  not. 

Fool,  of  thyself  speak  well ;  fool,  do  not  flatter. 

My  conscience  hath  a  thousand  several  tongues, 

And  every  tongue  brings  in  a  several  tale, 

And  every  tale  condemns  me  for  a  villain. 

Perjury,  perjury,  in  the  high’st  degree; 

Murder,  stern  murder,  in  the  dir’st  degree  ; 

All  several  sins,  all  used  in  each  degree, 

Throng  to  the  bar,  crying  all,  Guilty !  guilty  1 
I  shall  despair.  —  There  is  no  creature  loves  me  ; 

And,  if  I  die,  no  soul  will  pity  me  ;  — 

Nay,  wherefore  should  they,  —  since  that  I  myself 
Find  in  myself  no  pity  to  myself  ? 

Methought  the  souls  of  all  that  I  had  murdered 
Came  to  my  tent ;  and  every  one  did  threat 
To-morrow’s  vengeance  on  the  head  of  Richard.”. 

King  Richard  III .,  act  v  ,  sc.  iii 


PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MORAL  LAW.  73 

Let  me  sit  heavy  on  thy  soul  to-morrow  !  So  spoke 
Sliakspeare ;  so,  the  ghosts ;  so,  inductive  science ; 
so,  natural  law;  so,  that  Somewhat  which  is  behind 
all  natural  law ;  and  so,  that  Some  One  who  is  behind 
the  Somewhat.  [Applause.] 

You  will  allow  me  to  make  reference  here  to  some 
of  the  subtlest  of  unexplored  human  experiences.  I 
am  by  no  means  drifting  out  of  the  range  of  scien¬ 
tific  currents  and  received  thought,  even  if  I  ven¬ 
ture  to  sail  boldly  into  the  fog  which  lies  along  the 
shore  of  many  an  undiscovered  land.  But,  my 
friends,  put  Sliakspeare  at  the  helm.  Let  us  rec¬ 
ognize  him  as  the  pilot ;  and,  remembering  what 
weight  he  puts  upon  the  word  heavy ,  dare  to  look 
into  the  canvas  of  a  Raphael  and  an  Angelo  a  mo¬ 
ment,  and  into  this  deeper  canvas  of  our  own  souls, 
painted  by  natural  law,  that  is,  by  the  fingers  of  the 
Personal  Omnipresence,  who  was,  and  is,  and  is  to 
come.  I  affirm,  what  no  man  can  deny,  that  the 
natural  language  of  gesture  is  God’s  language.  We 
did  not  invent  it.  Surely  natural  language  is  the 
language  of  nature  ;  and  these  gestures  which  make 
us  hang  the  head,  and  give  us  the  erect  attitude,  are 
proclamations  made,  not  by  the  will  of  man,  but  by 
the  will  of  that  Power  which  has  co-ordinated  all 
things,  and  given  them  harmony  with  each  other, 
and  never  causes  an  instinct  to  utter  a  lie.  We  have 
heretofore  looked  carefully  into  the  distinction  be¬ 
tween  an  organic  and  an  educated  tendency.  It 
would  mean  very  little  if  men  had  been  taught  lo 
tiang  their  heads  in  shame.  It  would  mean  very 


74 


CONSCIENCE. 


little  if  men  by  a  process  of  education  bad  learned 
to  assume  the  erect  attitude  when  conscience  is 
supreme.  It  is  scientifically  sure,  however,  that, 
when  an  organic  instinct  can  be  discovered,  we  have 
a  right  to  infer  from  its  existence  that  of  its  corre¬ 
late.  We  know  that  where  there  is  a  fin,  there  is 
water  to  match  it ;  where  there  is  a  wing,  there 
is  air  to  match  it ;  an  eye,  luminousness  to  match 
it ;  an  ear,  sound  to  match  it.  The  migrating  swans 
fly  through  the  midnights  and  the  morns,  and  they 
lean  in  perfect  confidence  upon  the  Maker  of  their 
instinct,  knowing  that  if  God  has  given  them  a  ten¬ 
dency  to  fly  to  the  South,  he  will  have  provided  a' 
South  as  a  correlate  to  the  tendency.  Our  great 
tests  of  truth  are :  intuition,  instinct,  experiment, 
and  syllogism.  Incontrovertibly  we  have  organic, 
and  not  merely  educated  tendencies  concerned  in 
these  instinctive  gestures,  by  which  conscience  in 
blissful  supremacy  gives  the  human  form  a  com¬ 
manding  or  overawing  attitude,  and  sometimes  a 
levitated  mood.  I  say  that  the  mood  is  levitated, 
whether  the  form  is  or  not. 

In  certain  highest  moments,  when  conscience  as¬ 
sures  us  that  the  stars  fight  for  us,  we  do  have  a  feel¬ 
ing  that  if  cast  out  unsupported  into  the  ether  we 
should  float  there  ;  and  we  have  at  other  times  a 
feeling  that  if  we  were  disembodied,  and  cast  out  into 
the  unknown,  we  should  sink.  These  two  subtle  and 
subtly  contrasted  organic  feelings  are  endlessly  sig¬ 
nificant.  Do  you  believe  the  forger,  the  perjurer,  the 
murderer,  has  any  feeling  that  he  could  float  aloft 


PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MORAL  LAW.  75 


with  the  great  levitated  forms  which  the  artists  have 
put  upon  canvas  ?  After  studying  often  at  Dresden 
Raphael's  Sistine  Madonna,  who  will  float,  I  paused 
in  the  Louvre  many  times  with  dissatisfaction  before 
Murillo’s  Madonna,  who  will  not.  She  stands  on  a 
crescent  moon,  and  I  think  she  needs  it  as  a  support. 
But  the  Venus  cli  Milo  will  float,  although  she  is 
in  marble.  We  have  these  instinctive  feelings,  al¬ 
though  we  do  not  understand  them  any  more  than 
the  brute  does  the  sunset.  We  cannot  rid  ourselves 
of  them  if  we  allow  our  thoughts  and  emotions  to 
follow  a  natural  course.  We  have  strange,  deep 
sense  by  which  we  authorize  ourselves  to  say  of  now 
and  then  a  female  form  in  art,  and  even  of  the  male 
^orm  occasionally,  though  oftener  of  the  female,  that 
it  would  float  if  left  alone  in  the  ether.  This  instinct 
is  an  indisputable  fact.  It  is  surely  a  shore,  although 
veiled  yet  in  vapor.  We  have  not  approached  that 
coast  much  yet,  but  there  is  the  instinct ;  there  is 
firm  land  here,  and  the  trend  of  its  beaches,  where 
lies  so  much  undiscovered  gold,  must  be  in  perfect 
accordance  with  that  of  all  these  instinctive  gestures. 
Begin  with  what  cannot  be  controverted,  or  the  prop¬ 
osition  that  we  hang  the  head  in  shame,  and  hold 
it  erect  in  conscious  self-approval.  We  know  that 
some  attitudes,  in  deep  remorse,  bring  a  man  down 
almost  to  the  posture  of  the  brute.  We  grovel  in 
the  dust  at  times,  when  we  feel  ourselves  under  the 
full  thunder  and  lightning  of  the  moral  law.  Mr. 
Emerson  says  that  he  has  read  in  Swedenborg  —  he 
means  he  has  read  in  natural  law  —  that  the  good 


76 


CONSCIENCE. 


angels  and  the  had  angels  always  stand  feet  to  feet  • 
the  former  perpendicularly  up,  the  latter  perpendicu¬ 
larly  down.  If  you  please,  that  is  science :  it  is  not 
poetry.  It  is  poetry;  but  it  is  science,  too.  We  see 
a  gleaming  curve  of  the  law  in  the  hanging  head 
and  in  the  erect  and  reposeful  and  commanding  atti¬ 
tude.  We  see  it  in  that  sense  of  elasticity  and 
almost  of  physical  levitation  which  arises  in  states  of 
moral  trance.  We  see  it  on  the  canvas  of  great 
painters  in  yet  higher  manifestations ;  and  when  we 
come  to  the  asserted  cases  of  physical  levitation,  we 
have  at  least  an  indication  of  the  intensity  of  the 
instinct  they  represent,  and  therefore  of  its  value  as 
a  scientific  guide. 

Shakspeare  is  at  the  helm.  Walk  forward  into  this 
wheeling  vapor,  and  gaze  shoreward  from  the  how 
of  the  vessel.  Let  him  keep  his  place.  He  will  not 
ground  you  upon  any  rocks  or  shoals.  Go  to  the 
vexed  leeward  rail  nearest  this  strange  shore  sound¬ 
ing  there  under  this  obscuring  mist,  and  open  as  a 
chart  —  what  ?  Why,  the  British  Quarterly  Journal 
of  Science,  edited  by  Professor  Crookes.  What  does 
he  say  ?  Has  he  any  guide-book  to  this  fascinating 
unknown  coast?  He  publishes  careful  articles,  in 
which  are  summed  up  a  large  number  of  the  alleged 
historical  cases  of  levitation  in  moral  trance.  Pliny 
in  his  Natural  History  (vii.,  18)  said  long  ago  that 
the  bodies  of  all  living  things  weigh  less  when  alive 
and  awake  than  sleeping  or  dead.  (Mares  pra3stare 
pondere ;  et  defuncta  viventibus  corpora  omnium  ani- 
rnantium,  et  dormientia  vigilantibus.)  Dean  Trench 


PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MORAL  LAW.  77 


(Notes  on  the  Miracles ,  ed.  vii.  p.  289)  defines 
man  as  “  the  animal  that  weighs  less  when  alive  and 
awake  than  dead  or  asleep.”  It  is  well  known  that 
the  levitation  of  the  body  of  Mr.  Home  in  London 
is  asserted  on  the  testimony  of  eye-witnesses,  includ¬ 
ing  in  their  number  Professor  Crookes,  editor  of  the 
Quarterly  Journal  of  Science,  Lord  Lyndhurst,  and 
many  other  men  of  large  experience,  trained  minds, 
full  culture,  and  unimpeached  integrity.  On  a  single 
page  of  the  guide-book  to  which  I  have  referred  you 
(Quarterly  Journal  of  Science,  January,  1875,  p.  58), 
you  will  find  a  statement  of  the  names,  country,  condi¬ 
tion,  and  date  of  life,  of  forty  levitated  persons.  “  The 
darker  and  less  historical  the  age,”  says  this  writer 
(p.  52),  “  the  more  miracles,  but  the  fewer  of  these 
phenomena  [of  levitation] .  The  testimonies  to  these, 
absent  so  far  as  we  can  see  in  the  ages  from  the  fourth 
century  to  the  ninth,  increase  in  number,  respecta¬ 
bility,  and  accuracy,  from  the  latter  to  the  present 
day.”  In  this  long  list  of  instances,  the  levitations 
occur  as  a  rule  in  states  of  moral  elevation,  or  trance. 
“If  levitation  has  occurred,”  says  this  authority,  “it 
is  natural.  Under  what  conditions,  we  may  never  be 
able  the  least  to  define ;  but  whatever  happens  we 
must  call  natural,  whether  the  naturalness  be  clear  to 
few  or  many,  to  none  or  all  of  us  (p.  39).”  Profes¬ 
sor  Crookes  thinks  that  if  we  can  prove  that  Caesar 
was  assassinated,  we  can  prove  that  there  have  been 
cases  of  levitation.  I  do  not  agree  with  him.  I  think 
it  very  doubtful  whether  we  can  now  demonstrate 
that  physical  levitation  has  occurred  under  the  eyes 


78 


CONSCIENCE. 


of  experts,  or  can  be  proved  to  the  satisfaction  of 
men  of  science.  But  this  fully  accredited  teacher  has 
a  right  to  be  heard  in  the  majestic  roar  of  the  uncon¬ 
quered  surf  of  this  unknown  coast.  Shakspeare  is 
there  at  the  helm ;  he  will  draw  the  ship  off  in  a 
moment ;  but  you  must  peer  once  in  the  name  of  sci¬ 
ence,  and  of  more  than  one  advanced  pilot  of  modern 
thought,  into  this  mist.  Professor  Crookes  affirms 
that  if  we  are  to  be  candid  students  of  history,  we 
shall  be  very  shy  of  denying  that  there  never  has 
been  physical  levitation,  as  it  is  sometimes  repre¬ 
sented  on  the  canvas  of  our  great  painters.  Perso¬ 
nally  he  has  no  doubt  that  it  occurs  in  states  of 
moral  trance. 

We  know  something  of  what  it  is  to  be  elastic 
when  we  feel  that  we  are  right  with  God  and  man ; 
and  that  fact  is  a  deep  glimpse  into  this  wheeling, 
smiting  mist.  It  is  surely  worth  while,  gazing  in  the 
direction  of  this  gleam  of  analogy  and  fact,  to  ask 
whether  there  have  been  cases  in  which  the  human 
form,  under  the  highest  activity  of  conscience,  has 
been  lifted  aloft.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  accept  Mr. 
Crookes’s  statements.  I  ask  you  only  to  note  what 
some  leaders  of  the  very  latest  science  are  saying, 
and  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  lee  shore,  meanwhile  tak¬ 
ing  soundings  every  now  and  then.  Keep  well  away 
from  the  rocks  of  Spiritualism.  [Applause.]  There 
are  Mahlstroms  in  which,  listening,  it  may  be,  to  evil 
spirits,  man  sometimes  mistakes  the  moral  downward 
for  the  moral  upward ;  and,  gazing  into  the  azure  of 
the  wide,  swift,  smooth,  circling  sea  at  the  whir] 


PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MORAL  LAW.  79 


pool’s  edge  until  dizzy,  persuades  himself  that  its 
inverted  reflection  is  the  sky;  wishing  two  wives, 
takes  some  gleam  of  a  lie  out  of  that  lower  azure 
as  his  justification  for  having  them ;  adopts  the 
Mahlstrom,  in  all  its  downward  swirls,  as  an  upper 
heaven,  and  so  plunges  into  its  glassy  throat,  as 
if  he  were  ascending.  Keep  out  of  that.  [Ap¬ 
plause.] 

Nevertheless  I  cannot  discuss  the  topic  of  uncon¬ 
troverted  physical  facts  concerning  conscience,  with¬ 
out  asking  you  to  notice  in  the  name  of  Shakspeare 
and  all  the  common  instincts  on  the  one  hand,  and  of 
all  of  the  latest  research  on  the  other,  that  a  physical 
tendency  to  levitation  is  a  matter  worth  investiga¬ 
tion. 

But  now,  my  friends,  even  if  we  could  not  make 
any  use  of  Mr.  Crookes’s  facts,  we  do  know  how  tan¬ 
gible  the  moral  law  is.  We  know  that  these  gestures 
upward  and  downward  reveal  subtle  arrangements  in 
the  connection  of  our  organization  with  conscience ; 
that  they  indicate  instincts;  and  that  all  instincts 
have  their  correlates.  Suppose  that  I  could  take 
you  no  farther  up  this  staircase,  along  its  twenty 
steps,  than  to  the  tenth  or  fifteenth.  Suppose  that 
we  cannot  go  up  together  over  more  than  half  these 
steps :  you  who  stand  on  the  lower  platform  will  yet, 
when  you  look  back,  have  an  outlook  worthy  of 
study.  I  know  that  I  have  an  instinct  by  which  my 
gestures,  in  the  midst  of  conscientious  self-approval, 
express  command,  repose,  elasticity;  and  that  when 
conscience  is  against  me  I  grovel  naturally.  Up  and 


80 


CONSCIENCE. 


down  are  words  physically  proclaimed  by  natural  law. 
There  is  no  reversing  the  relations  of  the  peerage  of 
heaven.  I  want  the  culture  that  will  bring  me  near 
to  the  Court.  I  therefore  must  studiously  examine 
the  only  steps  by  which  man  can  ascend  toward  the 
gates  that  have  foundations.  I  know  that  selfish 
pride  and  self-approval  through  conscience  are  as 
different  as  east  and  west.  They  are  so  far  apart 
that  east  and  west,  compared  with  them,  have  near¬ 
ness  and  cohesion.  A  reposeful  mood  and  peace  are 
given  by  a  blissful  supremacy  of  conscience,  but 
these  are  rarely  conscious  of  themselves,  as  pride 
always  is.  If  the  face  has  a  solar  light,  it  is  usually 
unconscious  of  the  possession  of  that  radiance.  And 
so,  if  a  man  have  the  approval  of  conscience,  if  the 
upper  nature  be  in  blissful  supremacy,  he  is  usually 
unconscious  of  his  mood.  No  emotion  has  its  full 
strength  until  it  is  so  profound  that  its  possession  is 
not  noticed  by  its  owner.  We  are  not  fully  given  up 
to  any  feeling  until  we  not  only  have  possession  of 
it,  but  become  unconscious  of  the  sorcery  by  which 
it  possesses  us.  The  orator  must  not  only  have 
possession  of  his  subject,  but  his  subject  of  him. 
When  it  has  possession  of  him,  you  are  not  con¬ 
scious  of  him,  nor  is  he  of  himself,  but  only  of  his 
theme. 

If  I  were  able  to  go  up  only  half  the  steps  that 
you  have  ascended  here  with  me,  I  should  feel  my¬ 
self  other  than  an  orphan  in  the  universe.  We  ask 
how  God  can  be  touched.  How  can  we  come  near 
to  the  ineffable  Somewhat  and  Some  One,  that  lies 


PHYSICAL  TANGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MORAL  LAW.  81 


behind  natural  law?  We  are  poor  flowers  opening 
toward  the  noon.  We  have  no  eyes  to  see,  and  yet 
we  have  nerves  to  feel.  Do  we  need  any  thing  more  ? 
We  are  sure  that  we  have  the  nerves,  and  that  we 
touch  the  sunlight.  We  know  scientifically  that  there 
are  an  up  and  a  down  in  natural  law  in  its  moral  range. 
We  are  as  conscious  of  this  moral  gravitation  as  we 
are  of  physical  gravitation.  We  touch  a  Somewhat 
that  lifts  us,  and  the  absence  of  which  leaves  us  to 
sink  to  what  appears  to  be  a  pit  bottomless ;  and  we 
know  that  this  gravitation  is  a  natural  law.  But  it 
is  a  truth  of  science,  that  every  natural  law  is  the 
constant  operation  of  an  Omnipresent  Personal  Will; 
and,  therefore,  in  the  incontrovertible  physical  facts 
illustrating  moral  gravitation  as  a  natural  law,  have 
we  not  the  touchings  of  the  Personal  Omnipresence, 
as  much  as  the  flower  has  the  touchings  of  the  sun¬ 
light  when  it  absorbs  its  beams  ?  [Applause.] 

As  feel  the  flowers  the  sun  in  heaven, 

But  sun  and  sunlight  never  see ; 

So  feel  I  thee,  O  God,  my  God  ! 

Thy  dateless  noontide  hid  from  me. 

As  touch  the  buds  the  blessed  rain, 

But  rain  and  rainbow  never  see ; 

So  touch  I  Thee  in  bliss  or  pain, 

Thy  far  vast  Rainbow  veiled  from  me. 

Orion,  moon  and  sun  and  bow, 

Amaze  a  sky  unseen  by  me  ; 

God’s  wheeling  heaven  is  there,  I  know, 

Although  its  arch  I  cannot  see. 


82 


CONSCIENCE. 


In  low  estate,  I,  as  the  flower, 

Have  nerves  to  feel,  not  eyes  to  see ; 

The  subtlest  in  the  conscience  is  . 

Thyself  and  that  which  toucheth  Thee. 

Forever  it  may  be  that  I 

More  yet  shall  feel,  and  shall  not  see ; 

Above  my  soul  thy  Wholeness  roll, 

Not  visibly,  but  tangibly. 

But  flaming  heart  to  Rain  and  Ray 
Turn  I  in  meekest  loyalty  ; 

I  breathe  and  move  and  live  in  Thee, 

And  drink  the  Ray  I  cannot  see. 

[Applause.] 

What  of  the  Ascension  ?  It  is  said,  to  turn  now 
one  glance  upon  the  Scriptural  record,  that  One, 
whose  face  did  shine  as  the  sun  in  solar  light,  and 
w7ho  illustrated  that  radiance  as  no  other  member  of 
the  human  race  has  ever  done  since,  as  He  blessed  His 
disciples  was  lifted  up  from  them,  and  a  cloud  received 
Him  out  of  their  sight.  Will  you  quail  here,  when 
you  see  the  perfect  unity  between  the  natural  law, 
as  I  have  endeavored  to  unfold  it,  and  this  action 
of  spiritual  forces  in  that  Member  of  the  human  race, 
who,  at  the  Transfiguration,  illustrated  the  glorious 
capacities  of  the  same  forces  to  give  to  the  present 
organic  body  solar  light?  I  know  that  in  21s  there 
is  a  levitating  tendency7  in  a  moral  trance.  I  know 
that  as  we  pray,  the  fashion  of  our  countenance  is 
altered.  And  it  is  recorded  that  as  He  prayed,  the 
fashion  of  His  countenance  was  altered,  and  that  as 


PHYSICAL  TAKGIBLENESS  OF  THE  MORAL  LAW.  83 


He  blessed  his  disciples  He  was  borne  up  from  them. 
Without  controversy,  great  is  the  mystery  of  Godli¬ 
ness.  God  was  manifest  in  the  flesh,  justified  in  the 
spirit,  seen  of  angels,  preached  unto  the  Gentiles,  be¬ 
lieved  on  in  the  world,  received  up  into  glory.  You 
say  that  I  am  treading  here  upon  the  very  edge  of 
blasphemy,  in  assuming  that  any  natural  law  is  con¬ 
cerned  in  these  summits  of  revealed  fact.  But,  my 
friends,  the  distinction  between  the  natural  and  the 
supernatural  is  one  that  may  be  stated  in  many  ways. 
The  natural  to  me  is  merely  God’s  usual  action,  the 
supernatural  his  unusual  action.  God’s  will  is  uni¬ 
form  ;  and  if  you  and  I  experience  some  tendency  to 
stand  erect  when  we  are  right  with  God,  if  you  and 
I  have  some  tendency  to  spiritual  levitation  when 
we  are  in  a  moral  trance,  who  shall  say,  if  our  good¬ 
ness  had  equalled  that  of  the  Soul  that  never  sinned, 
that  we  should  not  know  what  levitation  is,  as  he 
did  ? 

I  am  perfectly  aware  that  I  am  venturing  into  un¬ 
explored  remainders  of  thought,  but  it  is  my  purpose 
to  do  so ;  for  here,  at  the  temple’s  opening  in  this 
structure  which  I  am  building,  full  of  reverence  for 
conscience,  I  wish  to  erect  two  pillars,  —  two  gor¬ 
geous  marble  shafts,  if  you  please  to  look  on  them  as 
I  do,  facts  of  science  making  them  glorious, — two 
columns,  one  on  either  side  the  door,  —  Solar  Light 
ind  Moral  Gravitation.  Both  are  physical  facts. 
Both  we  can  touch  in  the  lower  flutings  of  the 
shafts ;  and  we  know  by  the  argument  of  approach, 
and  by  the  whole  scheme  of  analogical  reasoning, 


84 


CONSCIENCE. 


that  if  the  solar  light  were  carried  up  to  its  loftiest 
capacity,  it  might,  at  its  summit,  have  the  Transfig¬ 
uration  ;  and  if  the  laws  of  moral  gravitation  are 
examined,  and  we  ascend  them  to  the  highest  point 
to  which  analogy  can  take  us  up,  we  may,  without 
violating,  by  the  breadth  of  a  hair,  scientific  accuracy, 
find  there  the  Ascension.  [Applause.] 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD’S  VIEWS  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


THE  EIGHTY-FOURTH  LECTURE  IN  THE  BOSTON  MONDAY 
LECTURESHIP,  DELIVERED  IN  TREMONT  TEMPLE, 

OCT.  22. 


Und  ein  Gott  ist,  ein  beiliger  Wille  lebt, 

Wie  aucb  der  menschliche  wanke  ; 

Hoch  tiber  der  Zeit  und  dem  Raume  webt 
Lebendig  der  bdcbste  Gedanke, 

Und  ob  Alles  in  ewigem  "Wecbsel  krcisfc, 

Es  bebarret  im  Wechsel  ein  rubiger  Geist 

Schiller:  Die  Worte  des  Cftaubens,  C 


Se  Dio  veder  tu  vuoi, 

Guardalo  in  ogni  oggetto, 

Cercalo  nel  tuo  petto, 

Lo  troverai  con  te. 

E  se,  dov’  ei  dimora, 

Non  intendesti  ancora, 

Confondimi,  *je  puoi ; 

Dimini,  dov  ei  non  e  ? 

Metastasio:  Betulia  Liberata ,  i L 


IV. 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD’S  VIEWS  ON  CON- 

SCIENCE. 

PRELUDE  ON  CURRENT  EVENTS. 

Some  of  the  gravest  men  in  America  were  lately 
seen  in  the  city  of  Providence,  throwing  up  their 
caps  as  if  they  would  hang  them  on  the  horns  of  the 
moon.  Eye-witnesses  say  that  in  Music  Hall  in  that 
sober  municipality  there  were  clappings  and  shout¬ 
ings,  thumping  with  canes  and  umbrellas,  stampings 
with  feet,  shaking  hands,  laughter,  weeping  for  joy, 
waving  handkerchiefs,  swinging  of  hats,  and  in  some 
cases  the  tossing  of  them  into  the  air.  What  was 
the  cause  of  this  demonstration  ?  Simply  that  a 
penurious  people  had  paid  a  debt  incurred  by 
penuriousness.  [Applause.]  The  friends  of  a  most 
venerable  society,  which  has  been  known  in  all 
zones  for  fifty  years,  are  proud  of  having  relieved 
themselves,  partly  by  the  aid  of  secretaries  who 
=*re  statesmen,  and  who  act  on  democratically  small 
salaries,  of  a  debt  that  was  checking  one  portion 
of  the  advance  guard  of  aggressive  religion  on 

benighted  foreign  shores.  Five  hundred  thousand 

87 


88 


CONSCIENCE. 


dollars  are  to  be  raised  this  year,  we  are  told,  to 
strengthen  this  work  at  the  front;  and  yet  we  are 
assured  that  no  new  enterprises  can  be  undertaken 
with  that  sum.  So  penurious  is  America,  that  she 
allows  this  assurance  to  be  made  in  face  of  her  opu¬ 
lence,  and  does  not  feel  ashamed.  We  have  paid  a 
debt  which  we  ought  never  to  have  incurred,  and 
we  cannot  raise  money  enough  to  make  aggressive 
advance ;  and  we  are  loudly  congratulating  ourselves 
while  we  have  done  painfully  less  than  it  is  our  duty 
to  do. 

In  the  last  seventy  years  the  advances  of  Christian¬ 
ity  among  those  who  never  heard  of  it  before  have 
been  greater  than  in  the  first  seventy  years  of  the 
apostolic  age.  Events  not  arranged  by  man  have 
opened  all  lands  to  religious  truth.  Three-fourths 
of  the  missionaries  under  the  control  of  the  Ameri¬ 
can  Board  may  be  reached  by  telegraph  from  Boston 
within  twenty -four  hours.  There  are  no  foreign 
shores.  Sitting  in  his  office  yonder,  a  statesman 
secretary  with  whom  I  conversed  this  morning  told 
me  that  on  a  Saturday  a  telegraphic  despatch  reached 
him  in  Boston  from  a  missionary  in  Japan;  and  that 
a  reply  to  it,  shot  over  the  wires  through  England, 
Germany,  Turkey,  Asia  Minor,  India,  and  China,  was 
received  in  Japan  from  Boston  the  next  Tuesday 
morning ;  and  that  a  missionary,  acting  upon  intelli¬ 
gence  sent  thus  by 

“  Thunderless  lightnings  smiting  under  seas,” 
was  then  setting  sail  for  America  across  the  Pacific. 


matthew  Arnold’s  views  on  conscience.  89 


Look  at  the  unexplored  portions  of  the  world,  and 
you  will  find  that  the  telegraph  is  rapidly  exploring 
them ;  hut  if  a  telegraph  line  can  pass  through  Cen¬ 
tral  Asia,  and  almost  through  Central  Africa,  shall 
we  not  send  the  missionary  where  commerce  carries 
tiie  electric  wire? 

The  truth  is  that  men  underrate  the  amount  that 
has  already  been  done  in  .Africa.  I  hold  in  my  hand 
statistics  which  show  that  this  darkest  of  the  conti¬ 
nents  contains,  including  Madagascar,  130,000  church- 
members,  native  born  and  in  mission  churches.  Five 
of  the  vigorous  missionary  societies  of  Great  Britain 
are  now  following  up  Livingstone  to  Lakes  Tangan¬ 
yika  and  Nyanza.  Three  individuals  in  the  fat  land 
which  we  recognize  as  our  mother-isle,  and  which  we 
never  have  equalled  in  opulence  of  gifts  to  religious 
enterprises,  gave  each  $25,000  for  the  purpose  of 
pushing  missions  in  Africa.  We  have  forty  millions 
of  people,  and  Great  Britain  forty  millions.  All  our 
missionary  societies  together  collected  $1,800,000  in 
1875.  Those  of  Great  Britain  received  $3,100,000. 
In  1875  the  American  Board  collected  $468,000 ;  the 
Baptist  Missionary  Union,  $241,000;  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Board,  $300,000 ;  the  Presbyterian  Board, 
$456,000.  But  in  the  same  year  the  Gospel  Propa¬ 
gation  Society  in  Great  Britain  received  $400,000 ; 
the  London  Missionary  Society,  $517,000;  the  Wes¬ 
leyan  Missionary  Society,  $500,000 ;  and  the  Church 
Missionary  Society,  $879,000.  Our  own  Stanley  is 
following  on  the  track  of  Livingstone,  and  we  cannot 
long  consider  the  interior  of  Africa  as  wholly  un- 


90 


CONSCIENCE. 


known.  It  is  already  well  enough  explored  to  allow 
missions  to  be  planted  on  the  lakes  discovered  by 
Livingstone.  When  Stanley  shall  come  back,  and 
show  us  what  Livingstone  never  saw,  will  it  not  be 
fitting  for  our  different  missionary  societies  to  lock 
hands  with  each  other  as  those  of  Great  Britain  have 
done ;  and  then  to  lock  hands  with  hers,  and  see  to 
it  that  a  permanent  beam  of  light  is  shot  through 
this  last  dungeon  on  our  planet  ? 

Long  shadows  fall  from  the  western  mountains  of 
China,  and  from  the  Himalayas  northward,  upon 
a  territory  that  has  hardly  yet  been  reached  by 
Christianity.  More  than  nine-tenths  of  the  popula¬ 
tion  of  the  Chinese  Empire  have  never  heard  the 
central  truths  of  Christian  civilization.  But  Japan 
is  filling  with  a  dawn  that  will  be  a  Day,  and  is  rap¬ 
idly  crystallizing  in  the  habits  demanded  by  Chris¬ 
tian  custom.  Six  thousand  towns  between  the  Hima¬ 
layas  and  Cape  Comorin  are  Christian.  The  darkest 
places  are  the  interior  of  Africa,  the  islands  between 
Australia  and  Asia,  and  the  centre  of  the  Asiatic 
continent. 

LIow  large  is  the  field  of  the  world  ?  Start  in  the 
morning  at  San  Francisco  by  railway,  embark  eight 
days  later  on  a  steamer  at  New  York  or  Boston,  land 
at  some  French  port,  take  the  railway  to  Brindisi, 
cross  the  Mediterranean  to  the  Pyramids,  and  you 
have  travelled  eight  thousand  miles.  That  is  the 
distance  through  this  little  planet.  Sometimes  I  sit 
in  my  study,  and  turn  about  my  globe,  and  remember 
that  it  is  no  voyage  at  all  to  pass  from  the  Golden 


matthew  Arnold’s  views  on  conscience.  91 


Gate  to  the  Pyramids,  and  yet  that  this  distance  is 
as  great  as  the  whole  vaunted  thickness  of  the  soft- 
rolling  ball  on  which  we  wake  and  sleep.  When  1 
look  out  from  the  summit  of  my  house-top,  and  see 
the  watery  meridians  of  the  Atlantic  dropping  down¬ 
ward  toward  the  east  until  they  hide  the  hulls  of 
the  vessels,  and  leave  only  thin  top-gallants  visible, 
I  find  it  not  difficult  to  bend  these  aqueous  curves 
in  and  in  around  the  little  space  of  eisrht  thousand 
miles  until  they  meet  underneath  my  feet,  and  I  feel 
the  whole  globe  afloat  in  the  bosom  of  Omnipotence. 
This  little  ball  is  all  home  to  us.  We  are  to  go 
hence ;  but  while  we  are  here,  and  looking  off  into 
the  vast  spaces  which  may  be  the  homes  of  souls,  it 
is  our  duty  to  see  that  no  unexplored  remainders  are 
left  on  this  small  globe.  The  iron  fingers  of  com¬ 
merce  are  often  made  to  reach  around  it,  as  a  part 
of  the  sport  of  some  merely  mercantile  enterprises. 
Why,  Lord  Bacon  shames  us,  for  he  says,  “  Truly 
merchants  themselves  shall  rise  in  judgment  against 
the  princes  and  the  nobles  of  Europe ;  for  the  mer¬ 
chants  have  made  a  great  path  in  the  seas,  unto  the 
ends  of  the  world,  and  sent  forth  ships  and  fleets 
of  Spanish,  English,  and  Dutch,  enough  to  make 
China  tremble ;  and  all  this  for  pearl,  and  stones, 
and  spices.  But  for  the  pearl  of  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven,  or  the  stones  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem, 
or  the  spices  of  the  Spouse’s  Garden,  not  a  mast 
has  been  set  up.”  God  is  making  commerce  his 
missionary.  In  this  city,  and  in  this  audience,  are 
men  whose  fleets  are  in  all  the  seas. 


92 


CONSCIENCE. 


It  is  well  known  to  the  closest  observers,  that  it  is 
quite  within  the  power  of  Christianity  to  make  itself 
audible  by  the  voice  or  visible  in  the  printed  page, 
before  the  end  of  this  century,  to  every  living 
man. 

In  the  United  States  in  1776  we  had  one  evangeli¬ 
cal  minister  to  every  twenty-four  hundred  of  the 
population :  now  we  have  one  for  every  seven  hun¬ 
dred.  In  no  other  country  has  Christianity  made 
such  outward  advance  ;  and  to  no  other  land,  there¬ 
fore,  are  the  words  more  emphatically  uttered  than 
to  ours,  “Preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature.” 
Our  great  cities  are  listening  to  tabernacles  and  to 
steadily  laboring  churches.  I  suppose  that  there 
has  been  as  much  activity  put  forth  in  America  to 
reach  the  masses  at  home,  as  in  any  other  country ; 
but  they  who  work  most  at  home  are  the  most  will¬ 
ing  to  work  abroad;  and  those  who  are  the  most 
willing  to  work  abroad  are  the  most  willing  to  work 
at  home.  Echo  and  re-echo !  Those  who  feel  that 
the  field  is  the  world  feel  also  most  acutely  that 
their  field  is  their  own  hearthstone.  The  reverse 
is  also  true.  Show  me  a  man  who  is  aggressive 
in  Boston,  and  I  will  show  you  a  man  who  will  be 
aggressive  on  the  Bosphorus,  and  under  the  shadows 
of  the  Himalayas,  and  along  the  rivers  of  China; 
who  would  establish  Mount  Holyokes  and  Welles¬ 
leys  in  the  South  of  Africa,  and  would  brave  the 
fevers  of  the  Gold  Coast,  and  carry  through  the 
centres  of  darkness  a  light  such  as  commerce  alone 
has  never  diffused,  such  as  only  the  Bible  has  shed 


matthew  Arnold’s  views  on  conscience.  93 


upon  heathendom,  —  a  light  which  diffuses  conscien¬ 
tiousness,  and  therefore  allows  property  at  last  to  be 
safely  diffused.  [Applause.] 

If,  from  a  visible  throne  in  the  heavens,  He  whom 
we  dare  not  name  were  to  send  a  troop  of  angels  to 
the  centre  of  Africa,  and  another  to  the  interior  of 
Asia,  and  another  to  Japan,  and  another  to  the  isles 
of  the  Pacific,  and  if,  by  the  activity  of  these  vis¬ 
itants,  there  should  be  broken  open  a  way  for  com¬ 
merce  in  Japan,  a  way  for  missions  in  China,  a  way 
for  religious  truth  in  the  centre  of  Africa,  we  should 
all  bow  down  and  adore  before  such  a  revelation  of 
the  purposes  of  Providence.  But  a  Power  not  of 
man  has  sent  visitants  to  Japan,  and  to  the  isles 
of  the  sea,  and  to  the  centre  of  Asia,  and  the  heart 
of  Africa.  Treaties  with  once  rusty  hinges,  whose 
turning  grated  sounds  of  war,  now  move  as  if  all 
their  joints  were  oiled.  Bulwarks  of  ages  have  fallen 
down.  The  interiors  of  continents  not  long  ago 
largely  unknown  to  geography  are  open  at  this  hour 
to  missions.  These  events  are  just  as  surely  the  re¬ 
sults  of  Divine  Providence  as  if  they  had  been 
brought  about  by  bands  of  heavenly  visitants.  It 
does  not  become  us  to  exhibit  elation  because  we 
have  treated  Providence  penuriously,  and  at  last 
have  paid  the  debts  into  which  we  fell  by  lagging 
behind  Almighty  God.  We  are  not  to  be  ashamed 
of  missions,  for  God  evidently  is  not  ashamed  of 
them.  [Applause.] 


94 


CONSCIENCE. 


THE  LECTURE. 

In  1786  Frederick  the  Great  lay  dying  at  Sana 
Souci ;  and  in  1865  Thomas  Carlyle,  face  to  face  with 
all  the  scepticism  and  doctrinal  unrest  and  small 
philosophy  of  our  time,  and  with  a  mind  free  as 
Boreas  horsed  on  the  north  wind,  sat  down  to  de¬ 
scribe  the  scene  of  Frederick’s  departure.  This  all- 
doubting  man  Frederick,  a  pupil  of  Voltaire,  seemed 
to  have  neither  fear  nor  hope  in  death ;  but,  says 
Carlyle,  there  was  one  kind  of  scepticism  which  he 
never  could  endure.  “  Atheism,  truly,  he  could  not 
abide.  To  him,  as  to  all  of  us,  it  was  flatly  incon¬ 
ceivable  that  intellect,  moral  emotion,  could  have 
been  put  into  him  by  an  Entity  that  had  none  of  its 
own.”  ( Life  of  Frederick ,  vol.  vi.,  last  chapter.)  Car¬ 
lyle  affirms  that  to  all  of  us  it  is  inconceivable,  and 
this  flatly,  that  evolution  can  exceed  involution  ;  or, 
that  we  can  have  intellect,  emotion,  conscience,  as  the 
gifts  of  a  Power  that  has  itself  none  of  these  to  give. 

You  remember,  gentlemen,  that  Webster,  when 
asked  what  his  greatest  thought  was,  looked  about 
on  the  company  at  a  crowded  dinner-table,  and 
asked,  “  Who  are  here  ?  ”  —  44  Only  your  friends.”  — 
44  The  greatest  thought  that  ever  entered  my  mind 
was  that  of  my  personal  responsibility  to  a  personal 
God.”  He  expanded  that  idea  in  conversation  for 
ten  minutes,  and  rose  and  left  the  table.  Men  stood 
and  sat  in  the  hushed  room,  saying  to  each  other, 
44  Did  you  ever  hear  any  thing  like  that  ?  ”  But  yon¬ 
der,  on  the  shore  of  the  sea,  this  same  Webster,  clo& 


MATTHEW  AENOLD’s  VIEWS  OH  CONSCIENCE.  95 


ing  the  greatest  legal  argument  of  his  life,  ■  —  a  doc¬ 
ument  which  I  now  hold  in  my  hands, — uttered  the 
same  thought  in  words  that  I  have  read  standing  on 
the  coast  there,  and  which  have  in  them,  whether 
read  there  or  here,  or  anywhere  on  this  lonely  shore 
of  existence,  which  we  call  life,  a  giant  swell  like  the 
roll  of  the  Atlantic,  an  instinctive  colossal  tide  found 
in  every  soul  that  is  possessed  of  the  full  equipment 
of  a  man.  “  There  is  no  evil  that  we  cannot  either 
face  or  flee  from,  but  the  consciousness  of  duty  dis¬ 
regarded.  A  sense  of  duty  pursues  us  ever.  It  is 
omnipresent  like  the  Deity.  If  we  take  to  ourselves 
the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  sea,  duty  performed,  or  duty  violated, 
is  still  with  us,  for  our  happiness  or  our  misery.  It 
we  say  that  darkness  shall  cover  us,  in  the  darkness, 
as  in  the  light,  our  obligations  are  yet  with  us.  We 
cannot  escape  their  power,  nor  fly  from  their  pres¬ 
ence.  They  are  with  us  in  this  life,  will  be  with  us 
at  its  close  ;  and,  in  that  scene  of  inconceivable  so¬ 
lemnity  which  lies  yet  farther  onward,  we  shall  still 
find  ourselves  surrounded  by  the  consciousness  of 
duty,  to  pain  us  wherever  it  has  been  violated,  and  to 
console  us  so  far  as  God  has  given  us  grace  to  per¬ 
form  it.”  (  Weoaiers  Works,  vol.  vi.  p.  105.) 

Flatly  inconceivable  that  moral  emotion,  intellect, 
can  have  been  put  into  us  by  a  Being  that  has  none 
of  its  own  !  But  Matthew  Arnold  says  that  neither 
this  inconceivability,  nor  any  thing  else,  shows  that 
God  is  a  person.  It  is  a  physical  fact  that  Matthew 
Arnold’s  upper  forehead  is  very  flat.  Here  are  Car 


96 


CONSCIENCE. 


lyle,  Frederick  the  Great,  Webster;  and  I  might  put 
with  them  Cicero,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Leibnitz,  Kant, 
Richter.  Indeed,  the  latter  says,  speaking  from  ex¬ 
perience,  and  for  men  of  his  own  natural  rank,  that 
the  summit  of  every  full-orbed  nature  suggests  the 
belief  in  God  as  a  person.  At  the  top  of  the  great 
hills  in  Italy,  we  commonly  find  chapels.  Richter 
affirms  (Titan)  that  in  the  heights  of  every  fully  en¬ 
dowed  man,  there  is  an  instinct  of  obligation,  or  sense 
of  responsibility,  which  points  to  a  personal  God. 
So  Sehleiermacher  said,  and  built  a  renowned  and 
to-day  not  uninfluential  system  of  religious  thought 
upon  the  assertion;  but  he  was  a  theologian.  So 
Kant  taught  in  his  theory  of  the  practical  reason ; 
and  German  philosophy  at  the  present  hour,  however 
shy  of  some  of  his  outworks,  dares  build  nowhere 
else  than  on  his  fundamental  principles ;  but  he  was 
an  ethical  philosopher.  Take  only  literary  men, 
take  lawyers,  take  historians,  take  philosophers  of  no 
school  in  ethics,  and,  as  a  general  and  very  revelatory 
rule,  wherever  they  have  been  full-orbed,  they  have 
found  in  the  depths  of  their  endowments,  this  deepest 
instinct,  —  a  sense  of  obligation,  a  feeling  of  depend¬ 
ence. 

“Below  the  surface  stream,  shallow  and  light, 

Of  what  we  say  we  feel ;  below  the  stream, 

As  light,  of  what  we  think  we  feel,  —  there  flows, 
With  noiseless  current  strong,  obscure,  and  deep, 

The  central  stream  of  what  we  feel  indeed.” 

A  highly  important  question  in  our  vexed  time  is 
whether  we  are  to  take  for  our  general  guides  men 


matthew  Arnold’s  views  on  conscience.  97 


possessing  the  full  range  of  natural  endowments,  or 
fragments  of  men,  brilliant,  indeed,  in  parts  of  the 
human  equipment,  but  lacking  several  things  that  go 
to  make  up  a  full-orbed  man.  I  am' not  here  to  as¬ 
sail  any  person  as  naturally  unequipped.  But  we  are 
most  of  us  fragments :  and  Mr.  Arnold  admits,  and 
his  critics  have  always  insisted,  that  among  his  lim¬ 
itations  is  a  great  deficiency  of  metaphysical  insight. 
“  Men  of  philosophical  talents  will  remind  us  of  the 
truths  of  mathematics,”  says  Matthew  Arnold  himself, 
“and  tell  us  that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  un¬ 
doubtedly  equal  to  two  right  angles ;  yet,  very  likely 
from  want  of  skill  or  practice  in  abstract  reasoning, 
we  cannot  see  the  force  of  that  proposition ,  and  it  may 
simply  have  no  meaning  for  us.  The  proposition  is  a 
deduction  from  certain  elementary  truths,  and  the 
deduction  is  too  long  or  too  hard  for  us  to  follow ; 
or,  at  any  rate,  we  may  have  not  followed  it,  or  we 
may  have  forgotten  it,  and  therefore  we  do  not  feel 
the  force  of  the  proposition.”  “  Here  it  is,  we  sup¬ 
pose,  that  one’s  want  of  talent  for  abstract  reasoning 
makes  itself  so  lamentably  felt.”  QGod  and  the 
Bible,  pp.  69,  70;  London,  1875.)  “Probably  this 
limited  character  of  our  doubting  arose  from  our 
want  of  philosophy  and  philosophical  principles, 
which  is  so  notorious,  and  which  is  so  often  and  so 
uncharitably  cast  in  our  teeth.”  (. Ibid ,  p.  62.)  “  We 
are  so  notoriously  deficient  in  talents  for  metaphys¬ 
ical  speculation  and  abstruse  reasoning,  that  our  ad¬ 
versaries  often  taunt  us  with  it,  and  have  held  us 
up  to  public  ridicule,  as  being  without  a  system  of 


98 


CONSCIENCE. 


philosophy  based  on  principles  interdependent,  sub* 
ordinate,  and  coherent.”  (. Literature  and  Dogma, 
p.  389 ;  London,  fourth  edition,  1874.)  Matthew 
Arnold  admits  that  all  metaphysics  are  to  him  “  the 
science  of  non-naturals.”  QGod  and  the  Bible ,  p.  50.) 
But  by  metaphysics  we  understand  here,  as  people 
do  elsewhere,  the  science  of  self-evident  truth,  —  a 
systematic  examination  of  axioms,  with  the  inferences 
that  all  men  must  draw  from  them,  if  they  are  only 
true  to  the  self-evident  propositions  which  all  admit. 
Metaphysics  may,  indeed,  be  so  treated  as  to  be  ob¬ 
scure  ;  but  metaphysics  rightly  treated  is  the  lumi¬ 
nous  and  exact  science  of  self-evident  truth.  Matthew 
Arnold  flaunts  it  as  a  science  of  non-naturals ;  and, 
because  some  proof  of  the  existence  of  God  is  drawn 
from  metaphysics,  he  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
any  conclusion  that  stands  on  this  pedestal,  —  an  ab¬ 
stract,  all  in  the  air,  as  he  calls  it. 

Incontrovertibly  we  do  not  stand  on  any  thing  that 
rests  in  the  air  when  we  stand  on  these  ineradicable 
human  instincts  which  belong  to  every  full-orbed 
nature,  —  a  feeling  of  dependence,  a  feeling  of  obli¬ 
gation.  Each  is  a  part  of  us.  We  are  so  made  that 
we  cannot  doubt  our  finiteness.  We  are  not  every¬ 
where  ;  we  do  not  possess  all  power.  There  are  lim¬ 
itations  of  our  being.  But  we  have  an  idea  of  the 
Infinite.  We  are  circumscribed,  and  we  have  an  idea 
of  a  Being  who  is  not.  We  do  not  comprehend  him, 
but  we  apprehend  him.  As  individuals  we  began  to 
be.  There  is  evidence  that  our  race  began  to  be. 
Once  man  was  not  on  the  globe ;  he  came  into  exist 


Matthew  Arnold’s  views  on  conscience.  99 


ence.  Whatever  begins  to  be  must  have  a  cause. 
We  cannot  suppose  that  the  Infinite  has  come  forth 
from  the  finite.  We,  the  caused  finite,  must  be  the 
work  of  the  Infinite.  In  loyalty  to  self-evident  truth, 
we  must  put  the  finite  in  the  relation  of  effect,  and 
the  Infinite  in  the  relation  of  cause ;  and  so  we  begin 
to  feel  sure,  in  the  name  of  all  clearness  of  thought, 
that  we  can  intellectually  justify  this  instructive 
sense  of  dependence. 

There  is  an  Eternal  Power,  not  ourselves,  on  whom 
we  are  dependent ;  this  is,  indeed,  Arnold’s  central 
thought.  Nothing  is  more  beautiful  in  his  writings 
than  the  steady  melody  of  one  chord  in  his  harp. 
Most  of  the  chords  are  too  short,  or  twisted,  or  un¬ 
duly  strained ;  but  there  is  one  note  in  Matthew  Ar¬ 
nold  which  has  a  divine  resonance,  and  that  is  his 
passionate  preception  and  proclamation  of  the  nat¬ 
ural  victoriousness  of  right  under  the  laws  of  the 
universe.  Everywhere  he  is  the  prophet  of  a  Power, 
not  ourselves,  which  makes  for  righteousness ;  and 
this  central  assertion  of  his  he  regards  as  a  truth 
of  absolute  science.  He  cannot  decide  whether  the 
Power  is  personal  or  not.  He  will  not  deny  that  it 
is  a  person.  The  Edinburgh  Review  says  to  him,  “All 
existing  things  must  be  persons  or  things.  Persons 
are  superior  to  things.  Do  you  mean  to  call  God  a 
thing?”  Matthew  Arnold  replies,  “We  neither 
affirm  God  to  be  a  person  nor  to  be  a  thing.  \V  e 
are  not  at  all  in  a  position  to  affirm  God  to  be  the 
one  or  the  other.  All  we  can  really  say  of  our  ob¬ 
ject  of  thought  is  that  it  operates”  ( Crod  and  the 


100 


CONSCIENCE. 


Bible ,  pp.  97,  98.)  There  is  in  the  universe  an 
Eternal  Power  which  makes  for  righteousness.  We 
know  this,  as  we  know  that  fire  burns  by  putting 
our  hands  into  the  flame.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
decide  whether  this  power  is  or  is  not  a  person.  I 
know  by  its  operation  on  me,  by  its  influence  in  uni¬ 
versal  history,  by  the  instincts  which  point  it  out, 
and  by  my  sense  of  personal  dependence  and  obliga¬ 
tion,  that  it  makes  for  righteousness. 

Standing  now  on  this  common  ground,  I  wish  to 
lead  you  up  the  heights  which  rise  from  it ;  and, 
whether  Matthew  Arnold  accompany  us  or  not,  I 
know  that  others  will,  —  the  Kants  and  the  Schlei- 
ermachers,  and  the  Richters,  and  the  Ciceros,  the 
Platos  and  the  Carlyles  and  even  the  Fredericks  the 
Great ;  and  thus,  if  we  go  up  without  Matthew  Ar¬ 
nold,  we  shall  not  go  up  in  bad  company.  [Ap¬ 
plause.] 

1.  Conscience  emphasizes  the  word  ought. 

2.  That  word  expresses  the  natural,  human,  instinc¬ 
tive  sense  of  obligation  to  moral  law. 

3.  It  is  everywhere  admitted  that  this  law  was  not 
enacted,  and  that  it  is  not  reversible  by  the  human 
will. 

4.  It  is  imposed  on  us  by  an  authority  outside  of 
ourselves. 

5.  Our  obligation  is,  therefore,  to  an  authority  out¬ 
side  of  ourselves. 

6.  Our  instinct  of  obligation  is  active  even  when  we 
are  separated  from  all  human  government  and  society . 

7.  We  cannot  imagine  ourselves  to  obliterate  the  dis * 


matthew  Arnold’s  views  on  conscience.  101 


tinction  between  right  and  wrong ,  even  by  the  oblitera - 
tion  of  all  finite  beings  and  of  all  immaterial  nature. 

I  can  imagine  the  putting  out  of  all  the  fires  of  all 
the  hosts  of  heaven.  I  can  imagine  that  all  finite 
being  here  and  in  the  Unseen  Holy  is  not.  But  I 
cannot  suppose  that  the  putting  out  of  existence  of 
all  finite  being  would  obliterate  the  distinction  be¬ 
tween  upper  and  under,  between  the  whole  and  a 
part,  between  a  cause  and  an  effect,  or  between  right 
and  wrong.  The  difference  between  the  right  hand 
and  left  would  yet  inhere  in  the  very  nature  of  things, 
were  all  finite  existence  swept  out  of  the  universe. 
It  would  yet  be  true  that  there  cannot  be  a  before 
without  an  after,  that  two  straight  lines  cannot  en¬ 
close  a  space,  and  that  there  is  a  difference  between 
the  whole  and  a  part,  and  between  right  and  wrong. 
These  propositions  are  self-evident  truths,  and  depend 
for  their  validity,  not  on  the  existence  of  the  arch¬ 
angels,  or  of  the  government  of  the  United  States, 
or  of  Magna  Charta,  or  of  the  human  race.  They 
are  revelations  of  the  laws  of  the  nature  of  things, 
existing  before  Rome  was  founded,  and,  as  Cicero 
used  to  say,  likely  to  retain  their  authority  when  all 
human  empires  have  been  swept  away.  It  is  a  very 
strategic  point  that  I  am  elaborating ;  but  I  believe, 
now  that  I  ask  you  to  judge  for  yourselves,  that  I 
carry  your  general  assent  in  asserting  that  we  may 
imagine  the  annihilation  of  all  finite  existence,  and 
yet,  after  that,  have  the  existence  of  a  distinction 
between  the  whole  and  a  part,  between  a  cause  and 
an  effect,  and  between  right  and  wrong.  This  latter 


102 


CONSCIENCE. 


distinction,  however,  is  only  another  name  for  the 
moral  law;  and  so  Webster  is  right.  The  sense  of 
duty  pursues  us  ever.  Even  when  these  visible 
heavens  are  rolled  away,  the  moral  constellations 
remain,  and  pursue  their  accustomed  courses  in  the 
invisible  heavens  which  never  shall  be  rolled  away. 

8.  On  examination  of  personal  consciousness  it  is 
found,  therefore,  that  this  authority  to  which  we  owe 
obligation  is  not  immaterial  nature,  not  the  human- 
race,  not  human  government  and  society,  nor  finite 
being  in  general. 

All  these  things  we  can  imagine  annihilated,  and 
yet  our  sense  of  duty  pursues  us  ever.  The  feeling 
of  obligation,  that  is,  of  the  difference  between  right 
and  wrong,  and  that  the  right  ought  to  be  chosen 
and  that  the  wrong  ought  not,  continues  to  follow  us. 

9.  We  know  through  conscience  that  we  must 
answer  for  what  we  are,  and  for  what  we  do,  to  a 
Power  outside  of  us. 

10.  In  the  very  nature  of  things,  moral  obligation  to 
answer  for  ourselves  to  a  Power  not  ourselves  can  be 
owed  only  to  a  Power  that  knows  what  we  are  and  what 
we  do,  and  what  we  ought  to  do  ;  who  approves  of  the 
right,  and  disapproves  of  the  wrong ;  and  who  has  the 
power  and  purpose  to  punish  or  reward  us  according  to 
our  character  and  conduct. 

11.  Such  being  the  facts  of  our  moral  nature,  we 
are  under  the  necessity  of  assuming  the  existence  of 
such  a  Being  or  Power,  by  whatever  name  we  call  it. 

12.  Such  a  Being  or  Power,  who  knows  what  we 
are  and  what  we  do,  and  what  we  ought  to  be  and 


Matthew  Arnold’s  views  on  conscience.  103 


do,  and  who  approves  of  the  right,  and  disapproves 
of  the  wrong,  and  who  has  the  power  and  purpose  to 
punish  or  reward  us  according  to  our  character  and 
conduct,  —  such  a  Being  or  Power  is  a  personal  God 
on  whom  we  are  dependent,  and  to  whom  we  owe  ob¬ 
ligation.  [Applause.] 

This  is  the  argument  by  which  Kant  and  Hamil¬ 
ton,  while  denying  the  validity  of  all  other  arguments 
for  the  existence  of  God,  are  forced  to  admit  that  our 
nature  compels  us  to  believe  that  He  is,  and  that 
He  is  a  Person.  Probably  this  argument,  which  con¬ 
vinces  scholars  more  than  any  other,  is  the  one  which 
convinces  the  mass  of  men  more  effectively  than  any 
other  form  of  reasoning  from  the  organic  instincts  of 
conscience. 

Some  men  hold,  and  I  will  say  nothing  against 
their  reputation  for  scholarship,  that  the  existence  of 
God  is  an  intuition,  or  that  we  know  that  He  exists 
just  as  we  know  that  every  change  must  have  a  cause, 
or  that  a  whole  is  greater  than  a  part.  I,  as  you 
are  already  aware,  do  not  hold  that  the  Divine  exist¬ 
ence  is  guaranteed  to  us  by  intuition.  It  is  evident, 
but  not  self-evident.  It  is  guaranteed  to  us  by  a 
single  step  of  inference,  from  our  deepest,  surest, 
most  ineradicable  instincts.  When  I  analyze  these, 
I  find  the  fact  of  God’s  existence  as  a  Person  lying 
capsulate,  wrapped  up  in  the  sense  of  dependence  and 
of  obligation,  which  are  intuitions.  I  am  just  as  sure 
that  i  am  a  dependent  being  as  I  am  that  two  and 
two  make  four.  I  am  just  as  sure  that  I  am  under 
obligation  to  what  ought  to  be,  as  I  am  that  a  whole 
is  greater  than  a  part. 


104 


CONSCIENCE. 


The  difference  between  right  and  wrong  in  out 
choices  and  intentions,  you  will  find  to  be  not  only 
evident,  but  self-evident.  You  will  allow  me  here 
and  now,  since  I  do  not  say  the  Divine  existence  is 
guaranteed  to  us  by  intuition,  to  affirm  that  the  dis¬ 
tinction  between  right  and  wrong  is  thus  guaran¬ 
teed.  That  there  is  a  distinction  between  rffiht  and 
wrong  in  choices,  is  beyond  all  controversy,  just  as  it 
is  beyond  all  controversy  that  the  whole  is  greater 
than  a  part.  One  of  these  assertions  is  as  self-evident 
as  the  other.  When  we  perceive  this  distinction  be¬ 
tween  moral  motives,  we  feel  that  we  ought  to  obey 
a  good  motive,  and  disobey  a  bad.  Thus  our  sense  of 
obligation  expressed  by  the  word  ought  is  guaranteed 
by  intuition  as  well  as  by  instinct.  Intuition  stands 
on  one  side  of  it,  and  instinct  on  the  other.  The  feel¬ 
ing  that  we  ought  to  obey  the  right  motive  is  the 
instinct ;  the  perception  of  the  right  motive  is  the 
intuition.  Conscience  perceives  the  distinction  be¬ 
tween  right  and  wrong  in  choices,  and  feels  that  the 
right  ought  to  be  performed,  and  that  the  wrong  ought 
not  to  be.  Thus  direct  intuition  and  organic  instinct, 
the  two  highest  authorities  known  to  man,  guarantee 
to  us  this  sense  of  dependence  and  this  sense  of  obli¬ 
gation.  In  the  study  of  conscience  we  stand  between 
the  two  pillars  on  which  all  surety  rests ;  and,  look¬ 
ing  upward  along  the  flutings  of  these  two  shafts 
of  intuition  and  instinct,  —  perception  of  the  differ¬ 
ence  between  right  and  wrong  in  moral  motives,  and 
feeling  that  the  right  ought  to  be  followed  and  that 
the  wrong  ought  not,  —  we  can  throw  an  arch  from 


matthew  Arnold’s  views  on  conscience.  106 

the  capital  of  one  shaft  to  that  of  the  other,  and  on  its 
summit,  the  sense  of  dependence  on  the  one  side  and 
the  sense  of  obligation  on  the  other,  we  place  upon 
the  keystone  the  lowermost  corner  of  the  house  not 
built  with  hands,  the  belief  in  a  personal  God  to 
whom  we  owe  that  obligation,  and  on  whom  we  are 
thus  dependent.  [Applause.] 

If,  however,  you  refuse,  with  Matthew  Arnold,  tc 
examine  self-evident  truths  as  a  science,  I  must  ask 
you  to  take  the  point  of  view  of  the  microscope. 
Here  is  a  course  of  thought  proceeding  out  of  the 
very  heart  of  Biology :  — 

1.  Some  force  forms  the  parts  in  an  embryo.  “We 
are  woven,”  even  Tyndall  says,  “  by  a  power  not  our¬ 
selves.” 

On  the  1st  of  October,  at  the  Midland  Institute, 
Professor  Tyndall  gave  to  the  world  knowledge  of  a 
secret  which  most  scholars  have  understood  for  ten 
years.  At  the  Midland  Institute,  in  that  city  of  Bir¬ 
mingham,  which  is  so  well  known  to  you,  sir  (turn¬ 
ing  to  the  Bev.  Dr.  Dale  of  England),  Professor 
Tyndall  said  to  the  robber,  the  ravisher,  and  the 
murderer,  “  You  offend  because  you  cannot  help 
offending.”  (Report  in  London  “  Times  ”  of  Tyn¬ 
dall’s  lecture  of  Oct  1.)  Hackel  affirmed  years  ago, 
in  his  History  of  Creation  (vol.  i.  p.  237),  that  “  the 
will  is  never  free.”  Some  of  you  have  thought  it 
extravagant  to  assert  that  this  same  teaching  lies  be¬ 
tween  the  lines  of  many  a  page  published  by  the 
English  materialistic  school.  Hackel  is  far  bolder 
than  most  of  his  followers,  and  he  has  proclaimed . 


106 


CONSCIENCE. 


pointedly  that  the  will  is  never  free ;  and  now  Tyn¬ 
dall  does  the  same.  With  much  grace,  with  high 
literary  ability,  and  with  all  the  prestige  of  his  great 
name,  Professor  Tyndall  says  to  the  murderer,  “You 
offend  because  you  cannot  help  offending ;  we  punish 
you  because  we  cannot  help  punishing.”  Approba¬ 
tion  and  disapprobation  he  would  no  more  have  as  to 
the  overflow  of  the  muddy  torrent  we  call  an  Iago  or 
a  Mepliistopheles  than  he  would  for  the  overflow  of 
the  Rhine  or  the  Mississippi.  According  to  his  scheme 
of  thought,  we  may  put  up  dykes  against  Caligula 
and  Nero  as  we  do  against  the  Mississippi,  but  we  are 
not  to  have  disapprobation  for  Caligula,  or  for  Nero, 
or  for  Catiline,  any  more  than  for  the  Tiber  when  it 
overflows  its  banks  into  the  marble  temples  of  Rome. 
We  must  say  to  the  criminal,  “You  offend  because 
you  cannot  help  offending.”  These  are  Tyndall’s 
own  words,  which  Hermann  Lotze  would  think  hardly 
worthy  of  a  reply.  They  are  not  more  penetratingly 
mischievous  than  violently  unscientific. 

But  even  Tyndall  asserts  that  we  are  woven  by 
something  not  ourselves.  (Lecture  at  Birmingham, 
Oct.  1.)  Now,  I  affirm  that  when  the  embryo  comes 
into  existence,  some  force  forms  its  parts.  The  force 
that  forms  the  parts  is  the  cause  of  the  form  of  the 
parts.  The  cause  must  exist  before  the  effect.  We 
are  sure  of  that,  are  we  not  ?  My  delicious  and  sur¬ 
prising  friends,  who  are  sure  of  nothing  except  that 
you  are  sure  you  are  sure  of  nothing,  thereby  con¬ 
tradicting  yourselves,  are  you  not  certain  that  a 
cause  must  exist  before  a  change  can  be  produced  ? 


MATTHEW  ARNOLD’S  VIEWS  ON  CONSCIENCE.  107 


Very  well:  here  I  stand,  with  the  process  of  the 
weaving  of  a  physical  organism  going  on  under  my 
microscope.  Here  is  woven  a  lion,  there  a  man, 
here  an  oak,  there  a  palm.  From  the  first  the  plan 
of  each  is  in  the  embryo  from  which  each  begins 
That  plan  must  have  been  in  existence  before  any 
physical  organization  exists  in  the  embryo.  Even 
yom  Hackel  says  (“Popular  Science  Monthly,” 
October,  1877,  article  on  Bathybius,  p.  652),  that 
“  Life  is  not  a  result  of  organization,  but  vice  versa.” 
It  is  demonstrable  under  the  microscope,  that  life  is 
the  cause  of  organization,  and  not  organization  the 
cause  of  life.  The  plan  must  be  in  existence  before 
it  is  executed.  A  plan  in  existence  and  not  executed 
is  a  thought.  The  plan  executed  in  the  weaving  of 
an  organism,  therefore,  was  a  thought  before  the  or¬ 
ganism  was  woven.  That  thought  exists  before  the 
organism.  But  thought  implies  a  thinker.  There 
cannot  be  a  thought  without  a  thinker.  The  thought 
executed  in  the  organism  does  not  belong  to  the 
organism.  The  design  is  not  in  the  thing  designed : 
it  is  outside  the  thing  designed.  The  cause  i^  out¬ 
side  of  the  effect.  Thought,  the  force  that  forms  the 
embryo,  is  not  in  the  embryo :  it  is  outside  the  em¬ 
bryo,  for  it  exists  before  the  embryo.  Talk  as  you 
please  about  force  being  inherent  in  all  matter ;  or 
of  the  tree  Igdrasil,  as  Tyndall  has  lately  said,  being 
the  proper  symbol  of  the  universe  :  we  know  that  the 
cause  must  exist  before  the  change  it  produces.  This 
plan  by  which  the  form  of  the  embryo  is  determined 
must  be  in  existence  somewhere  before  any  form  is 


108 


CONSCIENCE. 


woven.  The  first  stroke  of  the  shuttle,  as  we  have 
proved,  implies  a  plan ;  and  so  we  know  that  there 
is  in  the  universe  a  thought,  not  ourselves  and  not 
our  own.  Adhere  to  that  proposition,  and  use  Des¬ 
cartes’  great  argument,  —  “I  think :  therefore  I  am  a 
person.” 

2.  Since  we  are  woven  by  a  power  not  ourselves, 
there  is  thought  in  the  universe  not  our  own. 

3.  There  cannot  be  thought  without  a  thinker. 

4.  Therefore  there  is  in  the  universe  a  thinker  not 
ourselves. 

5.  But  a  thinker  is  a  person.  [Applause.] 

To  put  now  the  whole  argument  from  design  into 
the  shape  which  best  pleased  John  Stuart  Mill,  we 
may  say :  — 

1.  Every  change  must  have  an  adequate  cause. 

2.  My  coming  into  existence  as  a  mind,  free-will, 
and  conscience,  was  a  change. 

3.  That  change  requires  a  cause  adequate  to  ac¬ 
count  for  the  existence  of  mind,  free-will,  and  con¬ 
science. 

4.  Involution  must  equal  evolution. 

5.  Only  mind,  free-will  and  conscience,  in  the  cause, 
therefore,  are  sufficient  to  account  for  mind,  free-will, 
and  conscience  in  the  change. 

6.  The  cause,  therefore,  possessed  mind,  free-will, 
and  conscience. 

T.  The  union  of  mind,  free-will-,  and  conscience  in 
any  being  constitutes  personality  in  that  being. 

8.'  The  cause,  therefore,  which  brought  me  into 
existence  as  a  mind,  free-will,  and  conscience,  was  a 
person. 


matthew  aenold’s  views  on  conscience.  109 

If  you  will  look  at  that  list  of  propositions,  you 
will  find  nothing  taken  for  granted  in  them  except 
that  every  change  must  have  an  adequate  cause. 
I  suppose  them  to  be  substantially  the  ground  on 
which  established  science  stands  to  this  hour,  with 
the  Richters,  and  the  Carlyles,  and  Platos,  and  Aris- 
totles,  and  even  with  the  all-doubting  Fredericks. 

We  may  say  also,  in  presenting  further  the  argu¬ 
ment  from  design :  — 

1.  If  there  is  an  omnipresent,  self-existing,  and 
infinitely  holy  moral  law,  and  if  the  nature  of  all 
dependent  intelligence  has  been  adapted  to  that  law, 
there  must  be  a  moral  designer  to  account  for  this 
moral  adaptation. 

2.  There  are  such  a  law  and  such  an  adaptation. 

3.  There  is,  therefore,  a  moral  designer. 

4.  But  a  moral  designer  must  possess  mind,  free¬ 
will,  and  conscience. 

5.  The  union  of  mind,  free-will,  and  conscience  in 
any  being  constitutes  personality  in  that  being. 

6.  The  moral  designer  of  the  moral  law  is,  there¬ 
fore,  a  person. 

John  Stuart  Mill  advised  all  who  would  prove  the 
Divine  Existence  to  adhere  to  the  argument  from 
design.  Even  Matthew  Arnold  says  that  all  he  can 
say  against  the  argument  from  design  is,  that  he  has 
had  no  experience  in  world-building.  “We  know 
from  experience  that  men  make  watches,  and.  bees 
make  honeycombs.  We  do  not  know  from  experi¬ 
ence  that  a  Creator  of  all  things  makes  ears  and 
buds.”  ( God  and  the  Bible ,  pp.  102,  103.^  VVRat 


110 


CONSCIENCE. 


if  Red  Cloud  and  Chief  Joseph  had  been  brought  to 
the  Centennial  or  to  Washington?  What  if  they 
had  seen  the  majestic  dome  of  our  national  Capitol, 
and  all  the  marvels  of  the  Centennial  ?  Red  Cloud 
would  have  said,  if  he  had  followed  Matthew  Arnold’s 
philosophy,  “  I  have  had  experience  in  building  wig¬ 
wams.  I  know  the  path  from  my  house  to  the  hut 
of  Seven  Thunders  or  Bear  Paw.  I  know  that  every 
such  path  is  made  by  some  cause.  I  know  that  every 
wigwam  must  have  been  built  by  some  man.  But 
this  railroad,  —  I  never  had  experience  in  building 
railroads,  —  I  do  not  know  but  that  it  was  fished  out 
of  the  sea.  This  marble  Capitol,  these  wonderful  and 
strange  things  in  the  Centennial !  I  have  never  had 
anj7-  experience  in  making  columbiads  or  spinning-jen¬ 
nies.  I  know  that  the  flint  which  I  sharpen  for  my 
arrow  must  be  shaped  by  some  man ;  but  this  colum- 
biad,  I  do  not  know  but  that  it  grew.  This  spinning- 
jenny  !  I  have  had  no  experience  in  factories  and 
weaving-machines  and  these  marvels.  I  think  this 
loom  was  evolved  !  ”  [Applause.] 

I  do  not  in  the  slightest  degree  misrepresent  the 
reasoning  of  Mr.  Arnold;  for  the  only  objection  he 
has  to  the  argument  from  design  is  that  he  has  had 
no  experience  in  world-building.  David  Hume  also 
once  made  that  assertion ;  but  when  he  walked  with 
Adam  Ferguson  on  the  heights  of  Edinburgh  one 
night,  and  studied  the  constellations,  he  said,  “  Adam, 
there  is  a  God.” 

Stuart  Mill  admits  that  the  argument  from  design 
proves  the  existence  of  a  designer ;  but  whether  we 


matthew  Arnold’s  views  on  conscience.  Ill 


can  prove  that  the  designer  thus  proved  to  exist  is 
the  only  designer  in  the  universe,  is,  as  some  people 
think,  yet  left  in  doubt.  Paley’s  argument  is  sup¬ 
posed  to  be  overthrown.  A  watch  implies  a  watch¬ 
maker;  but  how  do  we  know  that  there  was  not 
a  designer  of  the  watchmaker,  or  that  there  is  not  a 
second  God  that  designed  the  first  God,  and  a  third 
that  designed  the  second,  and  so  on  ?  A  design  must 
have  had  a  designer,  and  the  designer  a  designer,  and 
this  designer  a  designer ;  for  every  design  is  to  have 
a  designer.  Do  not  suppose  that  I  am  here  to  dodge 
this  difficulty,  although  occasionally  it  may  be  that 
some  of  our  theological  teachers  have  evaded  it.  I 
have  heard  that  Lyman  Beecher  was  once  approached 
by  his  students  with  the  question  how  they  should 
answer  sceptics  who  told  them  that  the  argument 
from  design  proved  too  much.  “  They  say  to  us,” 
the  students  told  their  teacher,  “  that  there  may  be 
twenty  Gods,  for  every  design  must  have  a  designer, 
and  every  designer  a  designer,  and  so  on.”  Now, 
Lyman  Beecher  did  not  know  how  to  answer  that 
difficulty,  or  at  least  he  did  not  give  the  scientific 
answer ;  but  he  was  quick  in  thought,  and  so  he  said 
to  his  students,  “  These  men  say  there  are  twenty 
Gods  ?  ”  —  “  Yes.”  —  “  Well,  you  tell  them  that  if 
there  is  one  God  it  will  go  hard  with  them,  and  if 
there  are  twenty  it  will  go  harder  yet.”  [Applause.] 
But  the  answer  to  be  made  is  that  we  cannot  have 
s  dependent  existence  without  an  independent  or  a 
self-existent  being  to  depend  upon.  All  existence, 
to  put  the  argument  in  syllogistic  form,  is  either 


112 


CONSCIENCE. 


dependent  or  independent.  Yon  are  sure  of  that? 
Yes.  Well,  if  there  is  a  dependent  existence,  there 
must  be  an  independent,  for  there  cannot  be  depend¬ 
ence  without  something  to  depend  upon;  and  an 
infinite  series  of  links  receding  forever  is  an  effect 
without  a  cause.  Your  axiom  that  every  change 
must  have  an  adequate  cause  is  denied  by  the  theory 
of  an  infinite  series.  You  carry  up  your  chain,  link 
after  link,  and  there  is  nothing  to  hang  the  last  link 
upon. 

1.  All  possible  existence  is  either  dependent  or 
independent. 

2.  If  there  is  dependent  existence  there  must  be 
independent  existence,  for  there  cannot  be  depend¬ 
ence  without  dependence  on  something ;  an  endless 
chain  without  a  point  of  support  is  an  effect  without 
a  cause ;  dependence  without  independence  is  a  con¬ 
tradiction  in  terms. 

3.  I  am  a  dependent  existence. 

4.  Therefore  there  is  independent  existence.  [Ap¬ 
plause.] 

But  independent  existence  is  self-existence. 

1.  All  possible  being  is  either  self-existent  or  not 
self-existent. 

2.  If  there  is  being  which  is  not  self-existent,  the 
principle  that  every  change  must  have  an  adequate 
cause  requires  that  there  should  exist  being  that  is 
self-existent. 

3.  I  am  a  being  that  is  not  self-existent. 

4.  Therefore  there  is  being  that  is  self-existent. 

So,  too,  with  exact  loyalty  to  self-evident  truth, 

we  may  say :  — 


matthew  Arnold’s  views  on  conscience.  113 


1.  All  possible  persons  are  either  self-existent  or 
not  self-existent. 

2.  If  there  exist  a  person  that  is  not  self-existent, 
there  must  be  a  person  that  is  self-existent. 

3.  I  am  a  person  not  self  existent. 

4.  Therefore  there  is  a  Person  who  is  self-existent. 
This  is  He. 

In  these  arguments  nothing  is  assumed  but  self- 
evident  truths,  which  all  men  act  upon  in  business, 
and  take  as  certain  at  the  fireside.  The  deep  human 
instincts  of  conscience  proclaim  all  that  our  meta¬ 
physics  do.  Science,  standing  upon  axioms,  knows 
no  more  at  last  than  the  man  full-orbed,  who  allows 
every  tide  in  him  to  rise  according  to  untaught  in¬ 
stinct,  and  finds  that  when  he  swells  aloft  under  the 
natural  attraction  felt  by  the  sense  of  obligation  and 
dependence,  he  touches  the  stars.  If  you  are  a  thin 
brook ;  if  you  are  under  the  torrid  sun  of  scepticism ; 
if  there  are  no  great  waves  in  you  that  can  kiss  the 
heavens  at  times,  —  you  may  be.  in  doubt.  But  let 
your  nature  become  oceanic,  and  feel  all  that  can 
come  to  you  from  the  winds,  and  from  the  springs, 
and  from  the  search  of  the  depths;  and  then,  when 
the  Power,  not  ourselves,  that  makes  for  righteous¬ 
ness,  rides  the  waves,  you  will  find  that  the  highest 
instincts  in  you  touch  Him  far  aloft,  as  a  Person. 
[Applause.] 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE. 


THE  EIGHTY-FIFTH  LECTURE  IN  THE  BOSTON  MONDAY 
LECTURESHIP,  DELIVERED  IN  TREMONT  TEMPLE, 

OCT.  29. 


The  Moral  Sense,  thank  God,  is  a  thing  you  never  will  account 
for;  that,  if  you  could  think  of  it,  is  the  perennial  Miracle  of  Man;  in 
all  times  visibly  connecting  poor  transitory  man  here  on  this  bewil¬ 
dered  earth  with  his  Maker  who  is  eternal  in  the  Heavens. 

Carlyle:  Shooting  Niagara:  and  after  ?\ i. 

Das  Gewissen  ist  das  Organ  zur  Manifestation  der  gottlichen 
Gerechtigkeit  im  menschlichen  Selbstbewusstsein. 

Hofmann:  Das  Gewissen ,  ii. 


V. 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE. 

PEELUDE  ON  CTJEEENT  EVENTS. 

Suppose  that  there  should  be  called  into  existence 
in  the  Eastern  or  Western  States  a  million  voters 
unable  to  read.  Were  the  Northern  portion  of  the 
Union  suddenly  saddled  with  danger  of  this  kind, 
our  vigor  would  bestir  itself,  no  doubt,  to  shake  off 
the  incubus  of  so  large  a  mass  of  enfranchised  ignor¬ 
ance.  But  the  Southern  States  have  had  brought 
into  their  borders  lately,  by  an  act  of  our  General 
Government,  one  million  voters  unable  to  read.  The 
population  of  the  territory  which  we  call  the  South 
is  slightly  larger  than  that  of  the  Eastern  and  Mid¬ 
dle  States,  or  than  that  of  the  section  which  we  call 
the  West.  Whether  you  approve  the  policy  of  the 
Chief  Executive  of  this  nation  or  not,  it  is  one  of 
pacification.  We  placed  the  flat  side  of  the  sword 
on  the  neck  of  the  South  for  a  while,  after  the  keen 
edge  had  caused  her  to  surrender.  We  kept  the  fiat 
edge  of  the  bayonet  on  her  neck  in  order  to  secure 
peace  at  elections,  and  peace  for  the  freedman’s  lonely 

school  on  the  edge  of  the  Dismal  Swamp,  and  peace 

117 


118 


CONSCIENCE. 


for  all  unarmed  men  at  night.  We  did  not  always 
secure  what  we  wished.  But  now  the  flat  side  of 
the  bayonet  and  of  the  sword  has  been  taken  off. 
There  is  no  method  of  managing  enfranchised 
ignorance  at  the  South,  except  by  educating  the 
freedmen. 

It  would  be  a  felicity  if  this  audience  could 
assemble  in  imagination  in  some  freedman’s  solitary 
schoolhouse  in  the  Florida  Everglades,  or  under  the 
moss-hung  pines  of  the  Carolinas  and  Mississippi, 
and  meditate  there  a  moment  on  the  duties  of  the 
North  toward  uneducated  voters  created  by  its  own 
act.  Once  in  personal  contact  with  the  South,  we 
find  a  strange  land,  fat,  semi-tropical  in  places, 
capable  of  great  wealth,  but  many  old  plantations 
are  covered  with  weeds.  If  the  Confederate  soldiers 
in  their  graves  could  come  back,  they  would  find 
not  a  few  of  their  old  homes  unrecognizable.  Capi¬ 
tal  was  greatly  centralized  by  slavery,  and  now  it  is 
being  decentralized.  The  only  prosperous  portions 
of  the  new  South  are  the  regions  where  men  have 
started  small  farms,  and  operate  them  upon  the  prin¬ 
ciple  that  machinery  is  to  be  used  and  labor  paid  for. 
In  cases  where  small  farms  have  decentralized  capi¬ 
tal,  prosperity  is  slowly  returning  to  the  Gulf  States. 
Even  in  those  quarters  of  the  South  where  free  labor 
is  thus  tardily  acquiring  honor,  the  negro  is  in 
debt.  He  is  paid  for  his  labor,  but  he  is  in  debt 
at  the  country  store.  Authorities  exceptionally  well 
acquainted  in  the  South  assert  that  these  debts  at 
the  corner  groceries  are  carefully  fostered.  The 


OKGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  119 


freedman  does  not  easily  buy  land  in  the  South. 
The  citizen  who  was  lately  a  slave  is  paid  very 
little  for  his  labor,  and  falls  into  debt.  He  can¬ 
not  leave  the  farm  on  which  he  lives,  unless  his 
debts  are  cancelled.  It  is  the  scheme  of  many  an 
old  master,  that  these  debts  shall  not  be  too  swiftly 
paid.  Put  your  ear  to  the  ground  in  some  of  the 
best  society  in  the  Middle  States,  and  you  will  find 
not  a  little  tremor  there  from  the  fear  that  a  time 
may  come  within  fifty  years  when  a  large  part  of  the 
black  race  will  fall  into  the  condition  of  the  Mexican 
peons,  held  in  a  kind  of  qualified  bondage  for  debt. 
If  you  do  not  anticipate  trouble  from  that  source,  it 
is  yet  certain  that  many  do ;  and  I  cannot  undertake 
to  assert,  at  this  distance  from  the  scene,  that  there 
is  not  a  threat  in  that  cloud  which  lies  half  out  of 
sight  along  the  Southern  horizon.  [Applause.] 

But  there  are  much  blacker  clouds  there.  A 
strange  land  this,  over  the  mellow  acres  of  which 
we  gaze  from  the  windows  of  our  freedman’s  school- 
house.  Twenty-five  and  five-tenths  per  cent  of  the 
population  of  the  South  over  ten  years  of  age  cannot 
read.  Thirteen  millions  are  here,  and  a  quarter  of 
them  need  to  use  the  spelling-book  yet.  I  speak 
with  all  sympathy  for  a  section  of  our  nation  which 
has  exhibited  great  bravery,  and  is  certainly  able  to 
educate  its  citizens  if  it  has  the  will  to  do  so.  But 
it  has  not  had  that  will.  At  this  moment,  it  is  true 
that  my  native  State  of  New  York  spends  more  for 
education  than  all  the  South.  If  your  uneducated 
freedmen  were  as  well  educated  as  the  average 


120 


CONSCIENCE. 


Southern  white  men,  they  would  not  he  well  enough 
educated  to  take  care  of  themselves,  and  become  in¬ 
telligent  voters.  Thirty-nine  per  cent  of  the  voters 
of  the  South  cannot  read  the  names  of  the  candi¬ 
dates  printed  on  their  ballots.  Three  and  eight- 
tenths  per  cent  of  the  Middle  States  and  New  Eng¬ 
land  are  illiterate,  —  that  is,  of  the  population  over 
ten  years  of  age,  that  percentage  cannot  read. 
Three  and  four-tenths  per  cent  only  of  the  Western 
States  are  illiterate.  I  whisper  this  in  Boston:  we 
are  behind  the  upper  part  of  the  Mississippi  valley. 
In  Alabama  fifty-three  per  cent  of  the  voters  are 
illiterate ;  even  in  Kentucky  twenty-eight  per  cent 
are  illiterate  ;  in  Maryland  twenty-two ;  in  Delaware 
twenty-four.  Of  the  2,000,000  illiterate  voters  in 
the  United  States,  1,700,000  are  in  the  Southern 
States,  which  elect  32  of  the  74  senators  and  109  of 
the  292  representatives  in  Congress. 

Here  is  a  mass  of  uneducated  suffrage,  and  who  is 
exploiting  it  ?  Look  at  the  negro  in  his  schoolhouse. 
Behind  him  is  his  master,  to  whom  he  is  in  debt ;  and 
on  the  other  side  of  him  is  a  strange  figure  in  Amer- 
V  ican  politics,  not  often  seen  in  our  land,  but  one  that 
has  been  potent  in  the  politics  of  other  lands.  This 
historic  form  wears  ecclesiastical  robes.  I  open 
authentic  documents  concerning  the  condition  of  the 
freedmen,  and  find  them  resolving  the  other  day,  in  a 
grave  public  assembly  at  Macon :  “  That  this  meeting 
appoint  a  committee  to  wait  upon  the  Rt.  Rev.  Bish¬ 
op  Gross,  who  is  now  in  this  city,  to  obtain  his  views 
as  to  the  educational  policy  of  the  Catholic  Church 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  121 


in  regard  to  the  colored  people  of  the  South,  and  to 
ascertain  to  what  extent  we  may  look  to  that  organi 
zation  for  assistance  in  the  work  of  educating  our 
children.”  Other  documents  assure  us  that  from 
Baltimore  there  has  lately  been  projected  a  great 
aggressive  campaign  upon  the  South.  New  schools 
for  colored  children  are  to  be  immediately  opened, 
ten  in  Georgia,  fifteen  in  Alabama,  twenty-five  in 
Louisiana.  These  Romish  schools  will  offer  board 
and  tuition  free  to  colored  young  men  and  women. 
If  the  uneducated  suffrage  of  North  and  South  in 
one  mass  is  ever  to  be  exploited  by  a  single  hand  on 
the  Tiber,  a  serious  hour  is  ahead  of  us. 

Rolling  through  the  Berkshire  hills,  a  few  days 
since,  and  up  the  fat  valley  of  the  Mohawk  to  Syra¬ 
cuse,  to  address  an  audience  for  the  purpose  of  arous¬ 
ing  interest  in  the  efforts  of  Protestant  free  schools 
in  the  South,  I  studied  on  the  way  the  case  of  the 
six  thousand  pupils  of  these  struggling,  heroic  insti¬ 
tutions  at  Nashville  and  Atlanta  and  Talledega  and 
Memphis.  So  great  was  the  contrast  of  their  pov¬ 
erty  with  the  opulence  of  the  Connecticut,  the  Hud¬ 
son,  and  the  Mohawk  valleys  I  glided  through,  that  I 
found  myself  growing  sick  at  heart  as  I  looked  out 
of  the  car-windows.  Schools  for  freedmen  in  the 
South  depend  yet  almost  exclusively  upon  the 
North  for  their  support.  No  doubt  the  freedmen 
help  themselves  as  far  as  they  can,  but  they  are 
exceedingly  poor.  There  are  men  who  wish  to  teach 
their  brethren,  both  in  secular  things  and  divine ; 
and  they  are  burning  pine-knots  instead  of  candles. 


122 


CONSCIENCE. 


for  they  cannot  pay  for  the  latter.  They  wish  to  go 
out  five,  ten,  fifteen  miles  into  the  country,  and  can¬ 
not  pay  their  railway  fares ;  and  so  for  any  distances 
under  twenty  miles  they  walk.  Again  and  again 
their  lonely  visits  in  the  country-side  are  subjected 
to  insults  from  roughs  of  the  poor  white  class.  A 
negro  preacher  is  not  a  welcome  guest  at  a  planter’s 
mansion.  It  is  only  yesterday  that  the  South  had 
in  it  armed  bands  which  often  prevented  negroes 
from  voting.  Freedmen’s  schoolhouses,  including 
churches  used  as  schoolhouses,  have  now  and  then 
been  burned.  Whole  tiers  of  counties  were  subjected 
to  political  terrorism.  No  doubt  the  negro  has  made 
mistakes.  He  had  a  majority  in  Mississippi ;  and  he 
did  not  act  there  like  a  saint,  but  very  like  an  unedu¬ 
cated  black  rascal.  He  did  things  in  his  official  capa¬ 
city  to  which  I  would  not  have  submitted,  had  I  been 
a  citizen  in  that  State ;  but  he  acted  as  it  was  to  have 
been  expected  that  he  would,  without  education,  and 
with  slavery  behind  him.  In  South  Carolina,  the 
black  man  has  a  majority;  and  he  has  not  acted 
there  like  a  citizen  understanding  his  duties,  but  like 
an  uneducated  freedman.  He  has  gone  to  the  wall 
in  Mississippi,  in  spite  of  being  in  a  majority.  He 
will  go  to  the  wall  in  South  Carolina,  in  spite  of 
being  in  a  majority  there.  If  you  would  keep  him 
from  being  pressed  to  flatness  against  that  wall,  you 
must  do  so  by  ringing  his  school  and  college  bells. 

In  the  cause  of  the  freedman,  the  bugles  of  Gettys¬ 
burg  were  once  at  the  front ;  the  bugles  of  Antietam, 
the  bugles  of  Lookout  Mountain.  But  to-day  in  that 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  123 


cause,  as  holy  now  as  ever,  the  only  sounds  we  hear 
at  the  front  are  affrighted,  half-choked  noises  of 
school  and  college  bells.  [Applause.]  You  who 
answered  the  bugles  at  Antietam,  you  who  answered 
the  roll  of  the  drums  in  the  smoke  of  Lookout 
Mountain,  you  who  understand  how  many  unknown 
graves  there  are  in  the  South,  will  you  not  hear  the 
confused  noise  of  the  freedmen’s  college  bells,  and 
follow  them  with  righteous  and  victorious  aid,  as 
once  you  followed  the  bugles  ?  [Applause.] 

THE  LECTURE. 

Plato  used  to  say  that  a  ship  is  all  but  its  wood. 
The  eloquent  shaft  on  Bunker  Hill  yonder  is  not 
fully  analyzed  by  us  when  we  take  into  view  only 
its  granite.  The  various  parts  together  exhibit  a 
plan ;  but  all  the  parts  taken  separately,  and  with¬ 
out  that  plan,  are  not  the  monument.  The  parts  of 
any  mechanism  without  their  plan  are  not  equal  to 
the  whole.  Here  is  the  human  eye,  or  ear,  or  hand ; 
and  each  contains  more  than  the  sum  of  all  its  visi¬ 
ble  parts.  W e  know  that  the  eye  consists  of  several 
distinct  portions ;  and  when  these  and  their  colloca¬ 
tions  are  examined  separately  we  find  that  they  have 
only  one  thing  in  common,  namely,  the  fitness  to 
produce,  when  each  part  is  co-ordinated  with  the  rest, 
the  organ  of  sight.  W e  have  lenses ;  we  have  aque¬ 
ous  and  vitreous  humors ;  we  have  eyelashes ;  we 
have  the  iris;  we  have  the  miraculous  retina;  and, 
if  these  were  seen  in  separation  from  each  other,  we 
might  at  first  be  unable  to  find  any  similarity  be* 


124 


CONSCIENCE. 


tween  them.  The  retina  is  not  like  the  cr)  stalline 
Lenses.  The  substance  of  which  the  iris  is  composed 
is  in  great  part  very  different  from  that  of  which  the 
lashes  consist.  Nevertheless,  when  we  study  the 
parts  more  minutely  we  find  that  they  have  one 
thing  in  common,  —  an  adaptation  to  be  a  part  of 
a  multiplex  whole,  constituting  an  organ  of  sight. 
Now,  that  common  element  in  them  all  is  something, 
if  you  please.  It  must  not  be  overlooked  by  the 
scientific  method.  There  exists  undeniably  a  com¬ 
mon  element  in  all  the  parts  of  the  eye  and  in  their 
collocations,  and  it  must  have  had'  an  adequate 
cause.  When  all  the  parts  are  put  together,  they 
constitute  an  organ  of  sight;  but  that  sight  itself 
does  not  spring  up  until  the  parts  are  put  together. 
If  the  shape  of  any  one  part  be  changed  materially, 
or  its  collocation  altered,  sight  ceases  or  is  impaired. 
Every  part  has  such  a  relation  to  the  whole,  that 
each  harmonizes  with  all  the  rest  in  an  adaptation  to 
produce  an  organ  of  sight;  and  so  we  feel  sure  that 
the  adequate  cause  of  that  adaptation  must  have  had 
in  view  sight  as  the  result  of  this  one  common  ele¬ 
ment  in  all  the  portions  of  the  eye.  The  only  ade¬ 
quate  cause  is  something  that  intended  to  produce 
sight  at  the  end  of  the  process  which  brought  into 
existence  these  parts  and  their  arrangement. 

Whether  the  parts  came  together  by  evolution, 
or  by  special  creation ;  whether  God’s  will  operated 
through  unchanging  laws  or  by  a  special  act,  to 
produce  the  eye,  we  know  that  somewhere  this 
adaptation  of  each  part  to  the  one  aptitude  of  the 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  125 


whole  mechanism  must  have  had  a  sufficient  cause. 
Even  John  Stuart  Mill,  sceptic  as  he  was  on  many 
points,  admits  explicitly  that  we  cannot  explain  the 
adaptation  of  part  to  part  in  the  eye  without  sup¬ 
posing  that  the  idea  of  sight  goes  before  the  adapta¬ 
tion  of  these  pieces  to  each  other  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  produce  sight.  There  must  be  an  idea  before 
we  can  have  a  plan ;  and  here  an  idea  plainly  existed 
before  the  effects  it  produces.  The  effects  are  the 
various  parts  of  the  eye  and  their  adaptation  to 
sight ;  but  sight  starts  up  only  at  the  end  of  a  long 
process.  The  idea  of  sight  as  an  end  to  be  attained 
must  have  been  in  existence  somewhere,  when  the 
adaptation  of  piece  to  piece  was  secured.  That  idea 
we  prove  to  exist,  not  by  analogy  merely,  but  by 
induction.  “This,”  Mill  says  in  his  last  book  ( Three 
Essays  on  Religion ,  American  edition,  pp.  171,  172),  \i 
“  I  conceive  to  be  a  legitimate  inductive  inference. 
Sight,  being  a  fact  not  precedent  but  subsequent 
to  the  putting  together  of  the  organic  structure 
of  the  eye,  can  only  be  connected  with  the  produc¬ 
tion  of  that  structure  in  the  character  of  a  final,  not 
an  efficient  cause ;  that  is,  it  is  not  sight  itself,  but 
an  antecedent  idea  of  it,  that  must  be  the  efficient 
cause.  But  this  at  once  marks  the  origin  as  pro¬ 
ceeding  from  an  intelligent  will.”  This  logician 
makes  this  last  stupendous  concession,  because  he 
knows  very  well  that  there  cannot  be  an  idea  with¬ 
out  a  mind  to  contain  it.  There  cannot  be  a  thought 
without  a  thinker,  any  more  than  there  can  be  an 
upper  without  an  under,  a  before  without  an  after, 


126 


CONSCIENCE. 


a  here  without  a  there.  Reasoning,  therefore,  upon 
the  strictest  principles  of  inductive  logic,  applying 
all  the  tests  of  the  scientific  method,  Stuart  Mill’s 
conclusion  is  that  an  antecedent  Idea  of  sight  must 
be  the  cause  of  sight,  and  that  this  Idea  must  have 
existed  in  a  Being  possessing  an  intelligent  Will. 
[Applause.] 

Herbert  Spencer  very  inexcusably  mistakes  the 
force  of  such  reasoning  as  this  of  Mill’s,  and  calls  it 
the  carpenter  theory  of  the  universe.  Spencer’s  own 
scheme  of  thought,  involving  implicitly,  as  Hackel’s 
does  explicitly,  the  assertion  that  organisms  have 
come  into  existence  by  spontaneous  generation  or 
fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms,  shaken  about  like 
dice  in  a  dicer’s  box,  I  call  the  dicer’s  theory  of  the 
universe.  For  one,  I  prefer  the  carpenter  theory  to 
the  dicer’s  theory ;  but  I  hold  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other.  Mill  discusses  the  dicer’s  theory,  and  is  of 
course  candid  enough  to  admit  that  “  this  principle 
does  not  pretend  to  account  for  the  commencement  of 
sensation,  or  of  animal  or  vegetable  life.”  tie 
weighs  all  his  syllables,  and  commits  himself  and 
his  philosophical  reputation  in  the  last  year  of  his 
life  to  the  proposition  that  “  it  must  be  allowed  that 
the  adaptations  in  nature  afford  a  large  balance  of 
probability  in  favor  of  creation  by  Intelligence.” 
( Three  Essays  on  Religion ,  p.  174.)  “The  number 
uf  instances  [of  such  adaptations]  is  immeasurably 
greater  than  is,  by  the  principles  of  inductive  logic, 
required  for  the  exclusion  of  a  random  concurrence 
of  independent  causes,  or,  speaking  technically,  foi 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  127 


the  elimination  of  chance.”  (Ibid.,  p.  171.)  Thus 
Herbert  Spencer  failed  to  convert  the  last  of  the 
world’s  great  logicians  to  the  dicer’s  theory  so  dear 
to  all  materialistic  schools  of  thought.  Scientific 
Theism  holds  neither  the  carpenter  theory  nor  the 
dicer’s  theory  of  the  origin  of  the  universe,  but 
asserts  Goethe’s  proposition :  — 

“Who  of  the  living  seeks  to  know  and  tell, 

Strives  first  the  living  Spirit  to  expel,  — 

He  has  in  hand  the  separate  parts  alone, 

But  lacks  the  spirit-bond  that  makes  them  one.” 

It  is  the  supreme  principle  of  Herbert  Spencer’s 
philosophy,  as  well  as  of  Sir  William  Hamilton’s, 
that  any  thing  we  cannot  help  believing,  or  any 
proposition  of  which  the  opposite  is  utterly  incon¬ 
ceivable,  we  must  hold  to  be  true.  This  has  been 
the  fundamental  principle  of  every  philosopher 
worthy  of  the  name  since  Aristotle.  Utter  incon¬ 
ceivability,  I  claim,  inheres  in  the  proposition  that 
this  adaptation  of  part  to  part  in  the  eye  can  be 
produced  without  the  preceding  idea  of  sight.  Utter 
inconceivability  lies  behind  all  atheistic  thought.  So 
too,  it  lies  behind  all  thought  which  does  not  deny 
that  God  exists,  but  denies  that  we  can  know  that  he 
does.  This  agnostic  theory  never  makes  a  scientific 
use  of  axioms ;  it  denies  the  power  that  inheres  in 
necessary  beliefs ;  asserts  with  Spencer  that  we  must 
consider  as  true  our  necessary  beliefs ;  and  then  with 
him  denies  that  these  beliefs  carry  us  out  to  the  idea 
of  an  Intelligent  or  Personal  First  Cause. 


128 


CONSCIENCE. 


Thus  far  I  have  endeavored  to  lead  you  through 
this  lecture,  as  through  the  last,  over  the  ground  of 
Induction,  based  upon  Intuition.  But,  to  turn  now 
to  the  ground  occupied  by  the  great  Organic  In 
stincts  of  Conscience,  it  is  not  uncommon  to  find 
even  materialism  admitting  that  men  instinctively 
think  of  God  as  Personal.  It  is  often  conceded  that 
our  instincts  point  that  way,  but  we  are  assured  that 
our  instincts  mislead  us.  We  have  been  miseducated. 
There  are  lying  faculties  in  us.  Our  profoundest 
tendencies  raise  false  expectations.  It  is  on  this 
verge  of  the  wildest  kind  of  scepticism,  on  this  edge 
of  what  the  schools  call  Pyrrhonism,  on  this  border  of 
the  denial  of  all  self-evident  truth,  that  I  wish  to 
call  pause  to-day  for  a  moment,  in  the  name  of  the 
axioms  of  science. 

Here  is  the  best  book  on  the  scientific  method  that 
has  been  produced  since  the  death  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton.  You  will  all  allow  me  to  say  that  the 
Principles  of  Science,  by  Professor  Stanley  Jevons, 
is  a  standard  work ;  but  he  closes  his  hundreds  of 
pages,  filled  with  the  most  careful  analysis  of  logical 
forms,  with  these  very  incisive  sentences :  “  Among 
the  most  unquestionable  rules  of  Scientific  Method  is 
that  first  law,  that  whatever  phenomenon  is,  is.  We 
must  ignore  no  existence  whatever ;  we  may  variously 
interpret  or  explain  its  meaning  and  origin,  but  if  a 
phenomenon  does  exist,  it  demands  some  kind  of  an 
explanation.  If  men  do  act,  feel,  and  live,  as  if 
they  were  not  merely  the  brief  products  of  a  casual 
conjunction  of  atoms,  but  the  instruments  of  a  far- 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  129 


reaching  purpose,  are  we  to  record  all  other  phe¬ 
nomena,  and  pass  over  these  ?  We  investigate  the 
instincts  of  the  ant  and  the  bee  and  the  beaver,  and 
discover  that  they  are  led  by  an  inscrutable  agency 
to  work  toward  a  distant  purpose.  Let  us  be  faith¬ 
ful  to  our  scientific  method,  and  investigate  also  those 
instincts  of  the  human  mind  by  which  man  is  led  to 
work  as  if  the  approval  of  a  Higher  Being  were  the 
aim  of  life.”  (Jevons,  Professor  W.  Stanley,  of 
University  College,  London :  The  Principles  of  Sci¬ 
ence,  a  Treatise  on  Logic  and  Scientific  Method,  pp. 
469,  4T0.  London,  1874.) 

Here  speaks  no  theologian,  no  partisan,  not  even 
an  anti-evolutionist,  although  Jevons  is  an  anti- 
materialistic  evolutionist,  as  every  man  of  sense 
ought  to  be.  Sneers  about  the  carpenter  theory, 
from  one  who  thinks  the  dicer’s  the  better,  are  quite 
out  of  place,  face  to  face  with  that  majestic  perora¬ 
tion  of  Jevons.  Let  us  be  everywhere  mercilessly 
true  to  the  scientific  method.  Since  man  does  pos¬ 
sess  instincts  by  which  he  is  led  to  act  as  if  the 
approval  of  a  Higher  Being  were  the  end  of  life,  we 
are  to  investigate  these  instincts  at  least  as  search- 
ingly  as  we  do  those  of  the  bee,  the  ant,  and  the 
beaver. 

1.  Instinct  is  an  exhibition  of  intelligence  in  but 
not  of  the  being  to  which  the  instinct  belongs. 

Your  bee  builds  according  to  mathematical  rule ; 
but  do  you  suppose  that  all  the  intelligence  it  ex¬ 
hibits  is  in  an  intellect  possessed  by  that  insect? 
Has  it  planned,  has  it  thought  out  geometrical  prob* 


130 


CONSCIENCE. 


lems,  and  at  last  ascertained  in  what  style  to  con 
struct  the  honeycomb?  None  of  us  believe  that. 
We  hold  that  the  bee  works  by  instinct,  and  the 
difference  between  instinct  and  reason  is  very  broad. 
Instinct  never  improves  its  works,  but  reason  does. 
The  bird  builds  her  nest  now  as  she  did  before  the 
flood,  and  the  honeycomb  is  the  same  to-day  as  it 
was  in  the  carcass  of  the  lion  when  Samson  went 
down  to  Jordan.  Instinct  copies  itself,  and  no  more. 
It  builds  better  than  it  knows.  But  Somewhat 
knows  how  well  it  builds. 

Somewhat  knows,  did  I  say  ?  What  a  contradic¬ 
tion  it  is  to  affirm  that  Somewhat  knows  !  Some  ■ 
what  does  not  know  any  thing.  Somewhat  is  no¬ 
body.  You  all  admit  with  Matthew  Arnold  that 
behind  Conscience  there  is  a  Somewhat,  but  you  ask 
whether  behind  the  Somewhat  there  is  a  Some  One. 
When  Matthew  Arnold  says  that  an  Eternal  Power 
not  ourselves  loves  righteousness,  he  is  introducing 
surreptitiously  the  idea  of  a  Some  One  behind  the 
Somewhat.  Some  One  loves ;  Some  One  may  fight 
intelligently  for  righteousness ;  but  Somewhat  never 

does  or  can  love.  The  eternal  Somewhat  who  loves 

* 

righteousness !  Self-contradictions  pervade  the  most 
characteristic  phrases  of  Arnold.  He  constantly 
introduces  the  idea  of  Some  One  in  his  citations  of 
Biblical  language  and  in  his  own  sometimes  very 
happy  phrases.  They  are  happy  chiefly  because  they 
conceal  and  effectively  use  under  the  cloak  of  rhetoric 
the  very  ideas  he  opposes.  The  Some  One  he  will 
not  name  explicitly ;  but  he  constantly  uses  the  idea 


OKGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  131 


of  Some  One  implicitly.  He  asserts  the  existence  of 
a  Somewhat,  but  he  will  not  admit  the  existence 
of  a  Some  One  except  surreptitiously,  using  the  idea 
though  not  confessing  its  existence.  Assuredly,  if 
we  are  to  follow  Mill  in  this  examination  of  the  eye, 
with  which  I  opened  our  discussion,  we  must  suppose 
that  the  idea  of  the  honeycomb  exists  before  the 
honeycomb,  as  the  idea  of  the  eye  goes  before  the 
eye.  The  idea  must  exist  somewhere  before  the  plan 
of  these  structures  existed.  Somewhere  there  must 
have  been  an  adequate  cause  of  the  adaptation  of 
part  to  part  in  the  honeycomb. 

Almost  imperceptible  creatures  in  the  sea  build  in 
the  Indian  Ocean  a  goblet.  It  is  called  Neptune’s 
cup.  Sometimes  it  has  a  height  of  six  feet  and  a 
breadth  of  three.  It  is  erected  solely  by  myriads 
of  polypi,  fragile  animals  shrunk  within  their  holes 
and  only  half  issuing  in  order  to  plunge  their  micro¬ 
scopically  small  arms  into  the  waves.  (Potjchet, 
The  Universe ,  p.  59.)  One  of  these  creatures,  strug¬ 
gling  to  keep  its  position  on  some  reef,  made,  perhaps, 
by  the  graves  of  its  predecessors,  begins  to  build  with¬ 
out  any  consultation  with  its  swarming  mates.  They 
all  build,  and  they  fashion  little  by  little  the  base  of 
the  goblet.  They  then  carry  up  the  long  slender 
stem.  They  have  no  consultation  with  each  other  in 
their  homes  under  the  sea.  Each  works  in  a  separate 
cell;  each  is  as  much  cut  off  from  communication 
with  every  other  as  an  inmate  of  a  cell  in  the  wards 
of  Charlestown  prison  yonder  is  from  his  associates. 
They  build  the  stem  to  the  proper  height,  and  then 


132 


CONSCIENCE. 


they  begin  to  widen  it.  They  enlarge  it,  and  com¬ 
mence  the  construction  of  the  sides  of  the  cup.  They 
build  up  the  sides,  leaving  a  hollow  within.  Every 
thing  proceeds  according  to  a  plan.  You  have  first 
the  pedestal,  then  the  stem,  then  the  widened  flange 
of  the  goblet,  then  the  hollow  within,  looking  up  to 
heaven.  The  savage  passes,  and  gazes  on  Neptune’s 
cup  in  the  Indian  Ocean,  and  is  struck  with  reverence. 
He  says  in  his  secret  thought :  These  creatures  can¬ 
not  speak  with  each  other,  but  they  act  on  a  plan  as 
if  they  were  all  in  a  conspiracy  to  produce  just  this 
Neptune’s  cup.  Is  the  plan  theirs,  or  does  it  belong 
to  a  Power  above  them  and  that  acts  through  them  ? 
Your  poor  savage  there  on  the  foaming  coast  of 
the  tropics  looks  up  to  the  sky  into  which  the  cup 
gazes,  and  finds  the  Author  of  the  form  of  that 
Neptune’s  goblet  in  a  Power  not  of  but  in  the 
creatures  which  build  it.  It  is  in  them,  but  not  of 
them,  for  they  have  no  intellect  which  can  conceive 
what  the  goblet  is ;  but  in  isolation  from  each  other 
they  so  build  their  cells  that  they  produce  at  last  a 
structure  having  a  plan  held  in  view,  not  only  ap¬ 
parently  but  in  fact,  from  the  very  first.  Even  your 
foremost  French  materialists  find  themselves  dazed 
when  they  stand  where  this  savage  does.  One  of 
their  opponents,  writing  lately,  affirms  that  Neptune’s 
cup  is  the  noblest  challenge  that  can  be  thrown 
down  before  the  school  of  materialistic  evolution. 
(Pouchet,  The  Universe ,  pp.  59,  61.)  And  yet  we 
have  men  so  filled,  not  with  the  depth  of  the  sea  of 
thought,  but  with  its  mere  froth,  —  so  filled  with 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  133 


wliat  even  the  coral  insects  might  rebuke,  disloyalty 
to  instinct,  that  when  they  stand  before  Neptune’s 
cup  they  see  nothing  to  wonder  at.  By  a  combina¬ 
tion  of  separate  forces,  the  bioplasts,  isolated  from 
each  other,  in  the  living  tissues  which  they  produce, 
build  the  rose  and  the  violet  and  all  flowers ;  the 
pomegranate,  the  cedar,  the  oak  and  the  palm  and  all 
trees ;  the  eagle,  the  swan,  the  thrush,  the  nightin¬ 
gale,  the  dove,  and  all  birds ;  the  lion,  the  leopard, 
the  giraffe,  the  elephant,  and  all  animals ;  the  human 
eye,  and  ear  and  hand  and  brain,  and  all  men.  It  is 
absolutely  necessary  that  the  builders  of  Neptune’s 
cup  should  be  governed  by  one  dominant  idea.  Does 
chemistry  explain  the  origin  of  their  common  thought? 
It  is  also  absolutely  necessary  that  all  the  bioplasts 
which  weave  a  living  organism  should  be  governed  by 
one  idea,  and  that  idea  differs  with  the  differences  of 
individual  living  forms.  Does  chemistry  explain  the 
origin  of  that  co-ordinating  thought?  Neptune’s  cup 
alone  strikes  us  dumb.  But  what  shall  we  say  of  the 
mystic  structures  built  by  the  bioplasts?  There  is 
the  cup;  it  is  a  fact;  and  the  eye  is  another  Nep¬ 
tune’s  cup ;  and  the  hand  another  Neptune’s  cup ; 
and  all  this  universe  is  another  Neptune’s  cup ;  and 
out  of  such  cups,  I,  for  one,  drink  the  glad  wine  of 
Theism !  [Applause.] 

2.  The  instincts  of  the  bee,  the  beaver,  the  mi¬ 
grating  bird,  are  found,  when  scientifically  investi¬ 
gated,  to  raise  no  false  expectations ;  they  all  have 
their  correlates ;  they  are  never  created  to  be  mocked. 

3.  From  the  existence  of  the  profound  instincts  of 


184 


CONSCIENCE. 


conscience,  we  must  infer  that  they  too,  when  scien¬ 
tifically  interpreted,  raise  no  false  expectations. 

4.  But  it  is  conceded  that  there  are  instincts  in  the 
human  mind  by  which  man  is  led  to  work  as  if  the 
approval  of  a  Higher  Being  were  the  aim  of  life. 

5.  This  instinct  implies  the  existence  of  its  corre¬ 
late,  that  is,  of  God  as  not  merely  a  Somewhat,  but 
also  a  Some  One. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  any  scientific  line 
fathoms  the  depths  of  the  nature  of  the  Some  One,  or 
of  the  Somewhat,  revealed  in  the  instincts  of  con¬ 
science.  But  the  quality  of  an  infinity  we  may  know 
even  when  we  cannot  know  its  quantity.  Knowledge 
does  not  cease  to  be  knowledge  by  becoming  Omnis¬ 
cience.  Power  does  not  cease  to  be  power  by  becom¬ 
ing  Omnipotence.  Space  does  not  cease  to  be  space  by 
becoming  infinite  in  extent.  Time  is  time,  although 
you  stretch  it  out  to  the  infinities  and  the  eternities. 
Intellect  does  not  cease  to  be  intellect  by  becoming 
infinite.  The  seat  of  intellect,  —  that  was  Paley’s 
definition  of  personality.  We  have  no  better  defini¬ 
tion  than  that.  Wherever  there  is  a  thinker,  we 
know,  therefore,  that  there  exists  a  person.  Ideas 
flame  from  all  quarters  of  the  universe  ;  plans  appear 
in  all  the  Neptune’s  cups  along  the  coasts  of  the 
upper  Indian  oceans  yonder,  in  the  sounding  surf  of 
the  constellations  where  the  starry  dust  of  the  nebula 
floats  as  spray.  We  find  there  a  plan,  and  here 
a  plan ;  and  wherever  a  plan,  we  find  an  idea  ; 
wherever  an  idea,  a  thought ;  wherever  a  thought,  a 
thinker ;  and  wherever  a  thinker,  a  person ;  and  *»a  if 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  135 


you  say  all  has  been  evolved,  we  say  of  necessity,  that 
all  has  been  produced  by  an  Evolver.  [Applause.] 

6.  It  is  conceded  everywhere,  that  conscience  fore- 
bodes  punishment,  and  anticipates  reward. 

7.  Those  activities  of  conscience  which  forebode 
punishment,  and  anticipate  reward,  imply  the  exist¬ 
ence  of  God  as  personal.  The  sense  of  obligation 
and  the  sense  of  dependence  both  imply  this.  The 
Divine  existence,  the  freedom  of  the  will,  and  even 
immortality,  Kant  called  postulates  of  the  practical 
reason,  that  is,  presuppositions  implied  in  the  activi¬ 
ties  of  conscience. 

There  are  organic  and  instinctive  activities  of  con¬ 
science,  by  which  we  forebode  punishment,  or  antici¬ 
pate  reward.  Who  denies  this  ?  Not  Nero,  when  he 
stabs  himself,  or  causes  his  servant  to  hold  the  sword 
on  which  he  falls.  Not  Nero,  when  he  hears  groans 
from  the  grave  of  his  mother,  whom  he  murdered 
the  other  day,  at  Baiae.  Tacitus  says,  as  I  recol¬ 
lect  at  this  moment,  that  Nero,  after  he  murdered 
Agrippina,  heard  sonitum  tubce  planctusque  e  tumulo , 
the  sound  of  a  trumpet  and  groans  from  her  grave. 
He  had  had  no  Christian  education.  He  had  not  been 
brought  up  wrongly,  and  probably  did  not  feel,  as 
Hume  did,  that  it  was  necessary  to  explain  his  qualms 
of  conscience  by  a  shock  he  received  in  his  youth. 
Nero  had  an  education  drawn  out  of  the  black  sky 
and  the  blood-soaked  sods  of  old  Rome ;  and  yet  he 
anticipated  the  action  of  the  Furies  behind  the  veil. 
Who  will  stand  here  and  affirm  that  these  moral  fears 
which  in  all  ages  have  expressed  themselves  in  what 


136 


CONSCIENCE. 


all  religions  have  taught,  as  to  the  Furies  and  Nemesis 
and  the  Avenging  Fates,  and  as  to  what  awaits  us  in 
time  to  come  beyond  death,  are  not  expressions  of  an 
organic. and  ineradicable  instinct  in  man?  If  God 
makes  an  instinct,  there  is  always  something  to  match 
it.  The  instinct  of  a  migrating  bird  finds  a  South 
to  match  it ;  an  ear,  sound  to  match  it ;  a  fin,  water  to 
match  it.  We  walk  directly  out  upon  this  universal 
organic  possession  of  man,  and  infer  the  existence 
of  its  correlate.  The  poor  bee  throws  out  its  an- 
tennse,  and  touches  things  near  it;  and  conscience 
throws  out  her  antennae,  and  touches  things  behind 
the  veil.  Conscience  makes  cowards  of  us  all,  not  on 
account  of  any  thing  this  side  the  veil,  but  of  some¬ 
thing  on  the  other  side.  But  when  conscience  makes 
cowards  of  us  all,  is  it  merely  of  some  arrangement  of 
the  molecular  atoms  in  the  universe,  merely  of  some 
shiver  of  the  ultimate  particles  of  this  inert  stuff 
that  we  call  matter,  merely  of  a  Somewhat,  or  is  it 
of  a  Some  One,  that  conscience  makes  us  afraid? 
[Applause.]  I  have  yet  to  find  a  materialistic  philos¬ 
opher  who  does  not  admit  that  this  foreboding  organic 
instinct  is  human.  This  is  the  way  conscience  is 
made ;  and  I  undertake  to  say  that  it  is  not  bun- 
glingly  and  mendaciously  made. 

8.  The  good,  the  great,  and  the  poetic  minds  of  the 
race,  in  all  ages,  have  described  their  highest  experi¬ 
ences  as  involving  a  consciousness  of  God  as  personal. 

Let  your  thoughts  run  through  the  vistas  of  his¬ 
torical  precedents.  Call  up  Socrates  with  his  pro¬ 
tecting  Genius,  which  always  told  him  what  not  to 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  137 


do.  Call  up  every  great  poet  that  has  addressed  the 
Muses ;  call  up  every  orator  that  has  invoked  the  aid 
of  the  gods;  remember  Demosthenes  there  on  the 
Bema,  looking  abroad  on  the  matchless  landscape, 
the  temples,  the  tombs  of  the  men  who  fell  at  Sala- 
mis,  and  yet  invoking,  above  them  all,  the  immortal 
gods.  Remember  that  no  public  state  assembly  was 
opened  at  Athens  in  her  best  days,  unless  preceded  by 
prayer.  A  dripping  cloud  would  disperse  an  audi- 
ence  in  the  Pnyx,  and  this  because  men  thought  that 
the  portent  indicated  that  the  gods  were  opposed  to 
their  assembling.  Votive  tablets  to  Jupiter  clothed 
the  naked  rocks  at  the  sides  of  the  Bema.  Even 
your  Napoleon  believes  in  a  protecting  genius. 
Lowell  pictures  the  first  man  in  his  naturalness,  as 
God-conquered,  with  his  face  to  heaven  upturned. 
In  our  highest  moments  we  instinctively  speak  of  a 
Some  One  and  not  merely  of  a  Somewhat.  Richter 
says  that  when  a  child  first  witnesses  a  thunder¬ 
storm,  or  when  the  greatest  objects  of  nature,  such  as 
the  Alps,  the  Himalayas,  or  the  ocean,  come  before 
the  mind  for  the  first  time,  then  is  the  moment  in 
which  to  speak  of  God ;  for  the  sublime  everywhere 
awakens  the  thought,  not  only  of  a  Somewhat,  but 
of  a  Some  One  behind  it. 

Not  a  Somewhat  merely,  but  a  Some  One,  walks 
on  Niagara’s  watery  rim.  The  farther  up  you 
ascend  the  Alps,  if  your  thoughts  are  awake,  the 
more  near  you  come  to  anticipated  communion, 
not  only  with  Somewhat,  but  with  Some  One  higher 
than  the  Alps,  or  than  the  visible  heavens  that 


138 


CONSCIENCE. 


are  to  be  rolled  away.  There  are  in  the  midnights 
on  the  ocean,  voices  that  the  waves  do  not  utter.  I 
have  paced  to  and  fro  on  the  deck  of  a  steamer,  mid¬ 
way  between  England  and  America,  and  remembered 
that  Greenland  was  on  the  north,  and  Africa  and 
the  Tropic  Islands  on  the  south,  in  the  resounding, 
seething  dark ;  and  my  home  behind  me,  and  the 
mother-isle  before  me.  Lying  on  the  deck,  and  look¬ 
ing  into  the  topgallants,  and  watching  them  sway 
to  and  fro  among  the  constellations,  and.  listening  to 
the  roll  of  the  great  deep,  I  have  given  myself,  I 
hope,  some  opportunity  to  study  the  voices  of  nature 
there ;  but  I  assure  you  that  my  experience  has  been 
like  that  of  every  other  traveller,  in  the  moments 
when  the  sublimities  of  the  sea  and  the  stars  have 
spoken  loudest.  A  Somewhat  and  a  Some  One  great¬ 
er  than  they  spoke  louder  yet.  The  most  audible 
word  uttered  in  that  midnight,  in  the  centre  of  the 
Atlantic,  was  not  concerning  Africa,  or  America,  or 
England,  or  the  tumbling  icebergs  of  the  North,  but 
of  the  Some  One  who  holds  all  the  Immensities  and 
the  Eternities  in  his  palm,  as  the  small  dust  of  the 
balance.  Was  that  natural?  Was  it  instinctive  ?  Or 
was  this  mood  a  forced  attitude  of  spirit  ?  I  should 
have  thought  I  was  not  human,  if  I  had  not  had 
a  tendency  to  such  a  mood.  I  should  have  been  a 
stunted  growth :  I  had  almost  said  a  lightning-smit¬ 
ten  trunk,  without  the  foliage  that  belongs  to  the 
upper  faculties,  without  the  sensitiveness  that  comes 
from  the  culture  of  one’s  whole  nature  :  if  I  ha  I  not 
felt  behind  the  Somewhat  of  the  material  globe  the 
Some  One  giving  it  order.  [Applause.] 


ORGANIC  INSTINCTS  IN  CONSCIENCE.  139 


9.  In  the  deepest  experiences  of  remorse  there  is  a 
sense  in  the  soul  of  a  disapproval  not  only  by  a  Some¬ 
what,  but  also  by  a  Some  One. 

10.  It  is  a  fact  of  human  nature,  that  total  submis¬ 
sion  of  the  will  to  conscience  brings  into  the  soul 
immediately  a  strange  sense  of  the  Divine  approval 
and  presence  as  personal. 

Pardon  me  if  I  ask  you  to  use  the  scientific  method, 
gentlemen,  in  the  verification  of  the  most  sublime 
fact  of  human  nature.  You  turn  upon  the  sky  your 
unarranged  telescope  at  random,  and  you  see  noth¬ 
ing.  Direct  it  properly,  but  fail  to  arrange  its  lenses, 
and  every  thing  visible  through  the  tube  is  blurred. 
But  arrange  the  lenses,  and  bring  the  telescope  ex¬ 
actly  upon  the  star,  or  upon  the  rising  sun,  and  the 
instant  there  is  perfect  accord  between  the  line  of 
the  axis  of  the  tube  and  the  line  of  the  ray  from  the 
star,  or  the  orb  of  day,  that  instant,  but  never  before, 
the  image  of  the  star  or  sun  starts  up  in  the  chamber 
of  the  instrument.  Just  so  I  claim  it  to  be  the  fact 
of  experience,  —  if  you  doubt,  will  you  try  the  scien¬ 
tific  method  of  experiment  on  this  subject?  —  that 
whenever  we  submit  utterly,  affectionately,  irreversi¬ 
bly,  to  the  best  we  know,  that  is,  to  the  innermost 
holiest  of  conscience,  —  at  that  instant,  and  never 
before,  there  flashes  through  us,  with  quick,  splendid, 
interior,  unexpected  illumination,  a  Power  not  our 
selves.  The  image  of  the  star,  or  a  representation 
of  the  sun,  is  found  within  the  chambers  of  the  poor, 
feeble,  human  instrument.  You  cannot  have  that 
nner  witness  until  you  have  that  exterior  and  inte- 


140 


CONSCIENCE. 


rior  conformity  to  conscience  ;  but  whoever  has  these 
will  know  by  the  inner  light  that  God  is  with  him  in 
a  sense  utterly  unknown  before.  The  axis  of  the 
tube  must  be  turned  exactly  upon  the  light  before 
you  can  have  the  image.  An  utterly  holy  choice 
brings  with  it  a  Presence  we  dare  not  name.  Turn 
conscience  in  total  self-surrender,  gladly  and  exactly 
upon  the  sun  behind  the  Sun,  and  it  is  a  fact  of  sci¬ 
ence  that  there  will  inevitably  spring  into  existence 
a  sun  behind  the  lenses,  hot  enough  to  burn  up  your 
greed  and  fraud,  hot  enough  to  burn  up  your  doubts 
and  those  winged  creatures  of  night,  scepticism  and 
unrest,  which  fly  through  the  twilight  and  not  through 
the  noon.  [Applause.] 

So  much  as  to  conscience  is  known  to  be  fixed 
natural  law.  There  are  undoubtedly  in  conscience 
unexplored  remainders,  both  unknown  and  unfath¬ 
omable  to  science.  '  “  Conscience  and  the  conscious¬ 
ness  of  God,”  says  Julius  Muller,  “  are  one.”  But  if 
behind  the  uncontroverted  facts  as  to  the  natural 
action  of  the  highest  of  all  human  organic  instincts, 
there  are  mysteries,  the  scientific  method,  with  unwav¬ 
ering  finger  and  lips  mute  with  awe,  points  out  in 
what  direction  we  are  to  seek  their  explanation. 

“  Careless  seems  the  Omnipresent ;  history’s  pages  but  record 
One  death-grapple  in  the  darkness,  ’twixt  old  systems  and  the 
Word'; 

But  the  yet  veiled  rules  the  future,  and  behind  the  dim  unknown 
Standeth  God  within  the  shadow,  keeping  watch  above  his  own.' 

Adapted  from,  Lowell:  The  Present  Crisis. 

[Applause.] 


VL 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL 

THE  EIGHTY-SIXTH  LECTURE  IN  THE  BOSTON  MONDAT 
LECTURESHIP,  DELIVERED  IN  TREMONT  TEMPLE, 

NOV.  5. 


Ganz  leise  spricht  ein  Gott  in  unser  Brast, 

Ganz  leise,  ganz  vernehmlich  zeigt  uns  an, 

Was  zu  ergreifen  ist  und  was  zu  fliehn. 

Goethe:  Torquato  Tasso ,  ill. 


id  f/hf  6p&in>  voftos  iarl  ftaotfunoc.  —  Plato:  Minot, 


VI. 

THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 

PEELTJDE  ON  CUEEENT  EVENTS. 

Thomas  Paine  has  recently  been  sold  at  auction 
in  Boston.  [Laughter.]  We  are  reminded  anew 
that  in  many  senses  infidelity  does  not  pay.  At  the 
dedication  of  the  Paine  Hall  in  Boston,  in  1875,  the 
editor  of  an  obscure  infidel  paper  said  in  a  public 
address,  reported  in  “  The  Investigator,”  for  Feb.  3, 
of  that  year,  “  I  will  not  conceal  the  fact  that  we 
have  had  a  long  and  difficult  struggle.  By  the  un¬ 
expected  and  most  generous  bounty  of  our  principal 
benefactor,  James  Lick,  Esq.,  of  California,  together 
with  the  donations  of  sympathizing  friends  from  all 
parts  of  the  country,  we  have  been  enabled  to  erect 
this  edifice,  after  about  fifty  years  of  incessant  toil 
and  struggle.”  Finding  that  statement  in  public 
print,  I  cited  it,  and  I  have  been  abused  by  Horace. 
Seaver  for  doing  so,  although  the  paragraph  was 
taken  from  his  own  paper.  I  suppose  he  thinks  my 
reading  that  in  public  was  a  violation  of  privacy,  his 
paper  has  so  small  a  circulation.  [Laughter.]  But 
I  now  hold  in  my  hands  another  extract  from  the 

143 


144 


CONSCIENCE. 


same  paper,  and  there  is  much  both  in  and  between 
its  lines  worth  noticing. 

A  CARD  TO  THE  DONORS  AND  FRIENDS  OF  PAINE  MEMORIAL 

BUILDING. 

There  was  a  meeting  of  the  board  of  trustees  of  the  Paine 
Memorial  Building,  Oct.  1,  1877. 

The  trustees  met  pursuant  to  notice,  Horace  Seaver  in  the 
chair,  B.  F.  Underwood  secretary. 

After  a  statement  of  the  financial  condition  of  the  building 
by  Mr.  Mendum,  and  consideration  of  the  same  by  the  trustees, 
it  was  voted  :  That,  whereas  the  call  upon  the  liberal  public  for 
contributions  to  save  the  Paine  Memorial  Building,  of  date 
June  18,  1877,  has  failed  to  elicit  any  thing  like  a  sufficient 
sum  to  meet  even  the  immediate  expenses  of  the  building,  and 
seeing  no  prospect  of  success  in  the  future,  and  unwilling  to 
solicit  further  donations  for  the  building  when  there  seems 
to  be  no  way  to  hold  it  with  the  contributions  we  are  likely  to 
obtain,  therefore  we  consider  it  advisable  for  the  interest  of  all 
parties  concerned,  that  the  building  be  sold  by  the  mortgagee. 
This  was  moved  by  B.  F.  Underwood,  seconded  by  Thomas 
Bobinson,  and  was  unanimously  passed  by  the  board. 

Moved  by  Mr.  Bobinson,  and  seconded  by  Mr.  Mendum,  that 
whereas  we  have  recommended  the  sale  of  the  Paine  Memorial 
building  under  foreclosure  of  mortgage,  we  decide  to  revoke 
all  calls  for  further  contributions,  and  to  notify  the  liberal  pub¬ 
lic  that  no  scrip  will  be  issued  by  the  trustees  as  a  means  of 
obtaining  a  loan.  Passed  unanimously. 

Moved  by  B.  F.  Underwood,  and  seconded  by  Thomas  Bob¬ 
inson,  that  if  any  Liberal  shall  bid  in  the  building,  to  be 
retained  for  Liberal  purposes,  we  will  regard  such  action  as 
deserving  the  thanks  of  the  Liberal  public ;  and  any  effort  to 
obtain  contributions  or  loans  by  issuing  scrip  on  his  personal 
responsibility  would,  in  our  opinion,  be  worthy  of  encourage¬ 
ment.  Passed  unanimously. 

The  trustees  have  given  much  time  and  attention  to  the 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAE. 


145 


interest  of  the  Paine  Memorial,  and  made  every  reasonable 
effort  to  obtain  money  for  the  building.  But  the  amount  re¬ 
ceived  by  contributions  since  we  have  had  control  of  the  build¬ 
ing  has  been  small,  considering  the  money  needed  to  pay  taxes 
and  interest  and  meet  the  necessary  expenses.  We  have  been 
able  to  hold  the  property  up  to  the  present  time  only  because  Mr. 
Mendum  has  generously  seen  Jit  to  advance  the  money  for  the  taxes 
and  interest ,  and  thus  has  postponed  the  sale  of  the  building. 

The  course  which  the  trustees  now  advise  —  they  can  only  advise, 
owing  to  the  heavy  indebtedness  which  puts  the  building  virtually  in 
the  hands  and  subject  to  the  control  of  the  mortgagees  —  is  simply  a 
necessity.  Further  efforts  to  hold  the  property  are  useless,  and  we 
are  unwilling  to  take  contributions  for  the  building  when  we  see  clearly 
that  even  if  we  were  able  to  meet  the  present  demands ,  there  would  be 
no  prospect  of  preventing  its  sale  at  a  later  date. 


Boston,  Oct.  1,  1877. 


Horace  Seayer, 
Josiah  P.  Mendum, 
B.  F.  Underwood, 
Osmore  Jenkins, 
Thomas  Robinson, 


►  Trustees. 


(. Investigator .) 


Such  is  the  official  statement  of  the  last  most  pain¬ 
ful  news  concerning  this  Paine  Memorial  Hall.  [Loud 
laughter.]  I  call  attention  to  this  ripple  on  the  sur¬ 
face  of  Boston  affairs,  not  for  the  sake  of  this  city, 
where  all  the  facts  are  well  understood,  but  for  the 
sake  of  some  critics  of  Boston  at  a  distance  who  sup¬ 
pose  that  free  thought  here  has  really  no  place  in 
which  it  can  be  wholly  without  fetters  except  yonder 
*n  the  hall  just  sold  by  auction.  We  know  better; 
but  it  is  presumed  sometimes  in  New  York,  often  in 
Chicago,  that  the  Paine  Memorial  Hall  represented  a 
deep  undercurrent  here.  Now,  if  it  did,  why  was  it 


146 


CONSCIENCE. 


not  saved,  as  the  only  monument  to  the  memory  of — 
well,  what  shall  we  say  ?  A  crackling  pamphleteei 
who  did  much  for  liberty,  and  who  would  have  been 
remembered  with  a  degree  of  honor  if  his  door  one 
night,  in  a  prison  at  Paris,  had  not  been  turned  with 
its  back  to  the  wall,  and  a  chalk-mark  that  indicated 
his  destination  for  the  guillotine  been  thus  concealed. 

Had  Thomas  Paine  died  in  the  middle  of  his 
career,  had  he  lost  his  life  when  death  was  appointed 
for  him  in  Paris,  undoubtedly  we  might  have  remem¬ 
bered  him  with  something  of  the  feeling  with  which 
Washington  and  Jefferson  and  other  leaders  of  our 
revolutionary  era  at  one  time  regarded  him.  But  he 
lived  long  enough  to  show  the  fruits  of  his  own  prin¬ 
ciples,  and  to  lose  the  larger  part  of  his  earlier  friends. 
Recent  discussion  has  turned  a  flood  of  light  upon 
his  last  years.  New  York,  in  Paine’s  day,  had  in  it 
men  enough  willing  to  conceal  his  faults  —  friends  of 
Paine  ;  friends  not  only  of  his  political  but  of  his 
religious  principles  ;  and  who  would  not  have  put  on 
record  contemporary  evidence  against  him,  had  not 
the  facts  been  notorious. 

We  are  not  to  spend  more  than  ten  minutes  on 
this  noxious  theme,  and  yet  the  biographical  fact 
should  be  remembered  that  Paine  had,  in  his 
last  years,  habits  absolutely  unreportable  before  a 
mixed  audience.  He  was  personally  filthy,  and 
was  at  times  recommended  to  bathe  as  a  means 
of  preparing  him  for  company.  On  one  occasion 
he  was  hired  to  soak  himself  three  hours  in  a  hot 
bath,  and  he  insisted  that  he  did  not  need  the 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


147 


ablutions,  when  everybody  that  had  called  lately 
upon  him  had  gone  away  shocked  simply  by  the 
man’s  uncleanliness  of  person.  He  was  a  drunkard. 
He  was  intemperate  not  only  in  the  manner  common 
in  that  day,  but  roughly,  deeply,  bestially  so.  That 
all  this  came  from  his  infidel  principles,  I  do  not 
assert,  for  some  men  have  been  drunkards  who  were 
not  infidels.  But  Paine,  up  to  the  last,  continued  to 
be  blasphemous  toward  Christianity.  He  was  proud 
of  his  infidelity.  I  do  not  suppose  that  he  ever 
^eally  recanted.  It  is  true  that  in  the  last  weeks  of 
his  life  he  was  constantly  calling  out,  “  O  Lord, 
save  me !  ”  “  O  Christ,  have  pity  on  me !  ”  He 

could  not  bear  to  be  left  alone.  Even  in  the  high 
noon,  he  would  shout  so  as  to  alarm  the  house,  if 
left  without  some  one  near  him.  There  is  evidence 
that  his  infidelity  sowed  the  seeds  of  his  bad  habits, 
just  as  the  infidelity  of  Aaron  Burr  sowed  the  seeds 
of  his  habits.  In  Princeton,  not  long  ago,  I  stood 
in  a  celebrated  cemetery  in  an  autumnal  cyclone, 
and  listened  to  the  whistling  of  the  wind  over  the 
grave  of  Jonathan  Edwards  and  that  of  Aaron 
Burr.  Who  can  say  that  the  career  of  Burr  was  not 
the  natural  outcome  of  his  principles  —  a  systematic 
course  of  villany?  and  who  can  say  that  Edwards’s 
career  was  not  a  natural  outcome  of  his  principles  — 
a  systematic  course  of  virtues?  I  can  understand 
that  a  man  may  be  born  with  a  dip  of  the  needle  that 
leads  him  astray  among  the  storms  of  passion.  I 
have  sympathy  for  those  who  are  wrecked  because  of 
deep  congenital  difficulties.  Aaron  Burr  had  these, 


148 


CONSCIENCE. 


and  Thomas  Paine  had  the  same ;  but  I  presume 
neither  of  them  had  more  terrific  passions  than  Jona¬ 
than  Edwards  or  Franklin,  and  yet  in  the  one  case  we 
have  lives  glorious,  and  in  the  other  lives  infamous. 

Among  the  throng  of  unimpeachable  witnesses  of 
Paine’s  bestial  condition  in  his  last  years,  is  the  quiet, 
candid  Quaker,  Stephen  Grellet,  whose  life  was  pub¬ 
lished  in  Philadelphia  in  1860,  and  republished  in 
London  in  1861.  He  lived  neighbor  to  Paine ;  and 
out  of  his  journal,  written  in  1809,  the  very  year 
Paine  died,  let  me  read  you  one  extract.  I  might 
multiply  citations  by  scores,  but  this  is  the  most 
strategic  passage  in  all  that  has  been  said :  — 

I  may  not  omit  recording  here  the  death  of  Thomas  Paine. 
A  few  days  previous  to  my  leaving  home  on  my  last  religious 
visit,  on  hearing  that  he  was  ill  and  in  a  very  destitute  condi¬ 
tion,  I  went  to  see  him,  and  found  him  in  a  wretched  state ; 
for  he  had  been  so  neglected  and  forsaken  by  his  pretended 
friends  that  the  common  attentions  to  a  sick  man  had  been 
withheld  from  him.  The  skin  of  his  body  was  in  some  places 
worn  off,  which  greatly  increased  his  sufferings.  A  nurse  was 
provided  for  him,  and  some  needful  comforts  were  supplied. 
He  was  mostly  in  a  state  of  stupor,  but  something  that  had 
passed  between  us  had  made  such  an  impression  upon  him 
that,  some  time  after  my  departure,  he  sent  for  me,  and  on 
being  told  that  I  was  gone  from  home  he  sent  for  another 
Friend.  This  induced  a  valuable  young  Friend  (Mary  Ros- 
(  coe),  who  had  resided  in  my  family,  and  continued  at  Green¬ 
wich  during  a  part  of  my  absence,  frequentty  to  go  and  take 
him  some  little  refreshment  suitable  for  an  invalid,  furnished 
by  a  neighbor.  Once  when  she  was  there,  three  of  his  deisti- 
cal  associates  came  to  the  door,  and,  in  a  loud,  unfeeling  man* 
Her,  said,  “  Tom  Paine,  it  is  said  you  are  turning  Christian 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


149 


but  we  hope  you  will  die  as  you  have  lived,”  and  then  went 
away.  On  which,  turning  to  Mary  Roscoe,  he  said,  “  You  see 
what  miserable  comforters  they  are.”  Once  he  asked  her  if 
she  had  ever  read  any  of  his  writings,  and  on  being  told  she 
had  read  but  very  little  of  them,  he  inquired  what  she  thought 
of  them,  adding,  “From  such  a  one  as  you,  I  expect  a  correct 
answer.”  She  told  him  that  when  very  young  his  “  Age  of 
Reason  ”  was  put  into  her  hands,  but  that  the  more  she  read 
in  it  the  more  dark  and  distressed  she  felt,  and  she  threw  the 
book  into  the  fire.  “  I  wish  all  had  done  as  you,”  he  replied  ; 
“  for  if  the  Devil  ever  had  any  agency  in  any  work,  he  has  had 
it  in  my  writing  that  book.”  When  going  to  carry  him  some 
refreshments  she  repeatedly  heard  him  uttering  the  language, 
“O  Lord,”  “Lord  God,”  or  “Lord  Jesus,  have  mercy  upon 
me !  ” 

God  grant  that  mercy  was  shown  him !  Let  us 
show  him  mercy  by  remembering  his  patriotism,  and 
forgetting  his  anti-Christianity,  of  no  consequence 
now  among  scholars,  and  surely  something  that 
ought  not  to  be  of  any  consequence  among  the  ten 
thousand  half-educated  young  people  and  operatives 
who  buy  the  paper-covered  “Age  of  Reason,”  even 
yet,  as  if  it  were  the  best  book  on  the  infidel  side. 
Not  far  from  Boston  a  man  with  gray  hairs  rose  in  a 
meeting  where  I  was  the  other  day,  and  said  that  he 
had  burned  his  Thomas  Paine’s  works  and  his  Vol¬ 
taire’s  Philosophical  Dictionary,  and  that  he  had  ob¬ 
tained  more  light  from  them  in  that  way  than  in  any 
other.  [Laughter.] 

THE  LECTURE. 

Charles  Sumner  —  magnum  atque  venerabile  nomen 
—  in  a  biography,  which,  if  completed  as  well  as  it 


150 


CONSCIENCE. 


has  been  begun,  will  daze  Trevelyan’s  Macaulay,  is 
represented  as  standing  one  morning  on  the  Alpine 
verge  of  Italy.  He  was  passing  toward  the  highest 
glaciers,  and  noticed  at  the  edge  of  the  way  a  col¬ 
umn,  on  one  side  of  which  were  the  words  Regno 
Lombardi ,  and  on  the  other  Tyrolese  Austria .  He 
passed  the  monument,  and,  suddenly  recollecting 
that  he  was  leaving  Italy,  rushed  backward,  and, 
with  the  enthusiasm  which  afterwards  sent  him  into 
the  conflict  with  slavery,  he  removed  his  hat,  waved 
it  toward  Lago  Maggiore  and  Lago  di  Como,  and 
toward  Rome  and  Naples,  Cicero,  Sallust,  Tacitus, 
and  all  the  rest,  and  said,  “  I  salute  thee,  Italy,”  and 
so  parted  from  the  land  of  flowers.  A  German, 
learned,  pragmatic,  far-seeing,  noticing  Sumner’s 
action,  walked  back  to  the  same  barrier,  removed  his 
hat,  and  turned  his  face  toward  the  Fatherland,  and 
said,  “  Et  moi,  je  salue  l’Allemagne.”  “  For  me,  I 
salute  Germany.”  (Pierce,  Edward  L.,  Memoir 
and  Letters  of  Charles  Sumner ,  vol.  ii.  p.  125.)  Thus 
opposed  in  sentiment,  these  travellers  went  on.  I 
suppose  the  German  learned  to  love  Italy,  if  he  al¬ 
lowed  himself  to  be  bathed  at  all  in  Sumner’s  enthu¬ 
siasms.  It  is  certain  that  Sumner  learned  to  love 
Germany;  for  beyond  the  eternal,  deadly  glaciers, 
he  found  a  land  of  cathedrals,  stately  universities, 
great  religious  historic  memories,  and  of  patriotism 
so  intense  that  old  Rome  never  conquered  the  Ger* 
man  forests,  but  was  sent  back  daunted  by  Hermann. 
Our  fathers  never  yielded  to  the  Roman  Empire.  In 
Germany  Sumner  at  last,  when  looking  toward  Italy 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


151 


from  the  north  side  of  the  Alps,  remembered  that 
one  meridian  joins  Rome  and  Berlin,  the  North  and 
the  South,  and  that  there  is  no  leaving  that  meridian 
until  we  can  out  swim  the  bounds  of  the  sky  itself. 
Italy,  Germany,  are  parts  of  one  world.  They  are  frag¬ 
ments  of  men,  they  are  travellers  of  a  narrow  range, 
they  are  provincial  hearts  and  intellects,  who  cannot 
embrace  at  once  both  the  cathedrals  of  the  Po  and 
the  Tiber  and  those  of  the  Rhine  and  Elbe.  [Ap¬ 
plause.] 

Conscience  is  Italy:  reason  is  Germany;  and  be¬ 
tween  them  Herbert  Spencer  and  Mansel  and  philos¬ 
ophers  of  their  school  have  in  every  age  thrown  up 
Alps,  obstructing  the  natural  transition  of  travellers 
from  one  to  the  other.  Conscience  teaches  that  God 
is  a  person.  The  organic  instincts  of  the  soul  all 
point  to  a  Being  possessing  personality,  and  on 
whom  we  are  dependent,  and  to  whom  we  owe  obli¬ 
gation.  But  it  is  said  that  reason,  strictly  interro¬ 
gated,  will  not  permit  us  to  assert  that  God  is  a  per¬ 
son;  that  an  Infinite  Person  is  a  contradiction  in 
terms;  that  we  cannot  call  God  a  person  without 
limiting  him ;  and  that  to  limit  him  is  to  deny  his 
infinity  and  absoluteness. 

Many  a  man  in  the  Italy  of  conscience  has  paused 
at  its  boundary  line  on  the  glacial  Alpine  heights  of 
thought ;  and  has  saluted,  as  did  Sumner,  the  South, 
or  the  moral  emotions  and  instincts ;  and  then  turned, 
with  a  shiver  taking  hold  of  the  bones  themselves, 
towards  the  avalanches  of  the  North,  or  the  icy  syl¬ 
logisms  of  reason  and  exact  research.  If  we  could 


152 


CONSCIENCE. 


only  live  on  the  Po  always ;  if  we  could  be  effemi¬ 
nate  forever ;  if  the  South  were  the  only  quarter  of 
our  nature  fit  to  he  trusted ;  if  there  were  no  majestic 
Northern  tribes  in  the  soul  that  will  have  reason  for 
their  King,  —  we  possibly  might  be  allowed  in  peace 
to  hold  the  sentimental  and  the  effeminate  faith  that 
God  is  a  Person,  and  that  our  hearts  and  his  heart 
may  come  into  contact,  finite  with  infinite !  But  a 
German  stands  here  too,  with  our  Sumner,  and  he 
removes  his  hat,  and  his  salutation  is  in  the  opposite 
direction,  and  we  must  move  on.  It  is  asserted  that 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  armies  have  tried  to  cross 
these  Alps,  and  have  perished  in  the  attempt.  Her¬ 
bert  Spencer  has  taken  up  his  abode  on  the  summits, 
and  insists  that  the  avalanches  are  impassable.  Man- 
sel  points  us  to  army  after  army  that  has  been 
stranded  in  these  snows.  Harvard  University  yonder 
has  one  brilliant  Spencerian  in  it,  who  sits  on  the 
Alpine  glaciers,  and  denies  that  God  can  be  known  as 
a  Person,  and  pities  any  who  seek  to  find  Germany, 
with  its  cathedrals  and  universities  and  majestic 
memories,  beyond  the  glaciers.  (Fiske’s  Cosmic  Plii - 
losophy ,  vol.  ii.  pp.  395,  405,  40T,  409.)  His  voice, 
however,  is  but  the  echo  of  Spencer’s,  although  occa¬ 
sionally  more  articulate  than  that  of  the  master.  It 
is  to  Spencer  that  we  must  look  chiefly,  and  to  Mat¬ 
thew  Arnold  and  to  Mansel  and  to  Alexander  Bain, 
for  our  discouragements  as  we  attempt  to  cross  the 
Alps  of  Nescience.  I  have  a  faith,  and  I  have  it  in 
the  name  of  the  general  law  of  the  survival  of  the 
fittest ;  in  the  name  of  what  has  been  the  steady  out 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


153 


come  of  philosophy,  age  after  age ;  in  the  name  of 
the  sky  of  self-evident  truths,  which  has  in  all  its 
parts  but  one  curve,  —  that  we  can  cross  those  Alps. 
I  have  four  tests  of  certainty:  intuition,  instinct, 
experiment  in  the  large  range,  and  syllogism.  By 
instinct  I  feel  authorized  to  say  that  God  is  a  Person. 
By  experiment  in  the  large  range  I  feel  authorized 
to  say  so.  That  belief  works  well.  By  syllogism, 
if  John  Stuart  Mill  is  authority  in  logic,  I  am  author¬ 
ized  to  say  that  there  is  a  Person,  whether  he  is  infi¬ 
nite  or  not.  A  God  exists  who  is  a  Person ;  and 
whether  we  can  call  him  literally  infinite  or  absolute, 
Mill  does  not  determine  ;  but  there  is  a  Person  behind 
the  thought  exhibited  in  the  universe.  Syllogism, 
experiment,  and  instinct,  three  parts  of  the  curve, 
are  thus  visible.  But  I  never  saw  a  curve  yet  that 
did  not  run  through  its  fourth  quadrant  according  to 
the  law  of  its  three  other  quadrants.  If  we,  in  dis¬ 
cussing  the  organic  instincts  of  conscience,  and  in 
looking  into  the  uncontroverted  facts  concerning  the 
moral  faculty,  find  a  sense  of  obligation  and  depend¬ 
ence  pointing  to  a  personal  God ;  if  all  these  agnos¬ 
tics,  these  Spencers,  these  followers  of  Arnold,  these 
doubters,  some  of  them  orthodox  with  Mansel,  are 
right  in  admitting,  as  they  all  do,  that  our  organic 
instincts  force  us  to  act  as  if  we  were  responsible  to 
a  Higher  Person,  —  then  assuredly  we  are  right  in 
saying  that  the  arc  of  instinct,  in  this  circle  of  tests 
of  truth,  points  to  God  as  a  Person.  Having  a  clear 
view  of  this  one  quadrant  only,  I  will  dare  to  project 
the  maiestic  curve ;  and  into  the  avalanches,  into  the 


154 


CONSCIENCE. 


mists  of  the  gnarled  heights,  into  all  that  is  Alpine 
here,  I  will  pass  boldly  on  the  line  of  that  quadrant, 
sure  that  beyond  the  summit  I  shall  find  a  Germany, 
one  with  Italy  in  the  beloved  South.  [Applause.] 

1.  While  it  is  admitted  by  the  highest  authorities 
that  conscience  teaches  that  God  is  a  Person,  it  is 
affirmed  by  a  few  of  these  authorities  that  reason 
teaches  that  he  is  not. 

2.  It  is  affirmed  that  to  call  God  a  Person  is  to 
limit  his  infinity ;  and  that  an  Infinite  Personality  is 
a  contradiction  in  terms. 

3.  In  this  state  of  the  discussions  concerning  con¬ 
science,  if  its  organic  instincts  as  to  its  obligations 
to  God  as  a  Person  are  to  be  justified  intellectually, 
it  becomes  of  the  utmost  importance  to  show  that 
reason  as  well  as  conscience  teaches  that  God  is  a 
Person. 

4.  For  the  purposes  of  such  proof  it  is  highly  ad¬ 
visable  now  to  separate  the  whole  topic  of  Theism 
into  three  parts:  namely,  the  proof  that  the  Cause 
of  the  universe  possesses  intelligence ;  the  proof  that 
it  possesses  unity ;  and  the  proof  that  it  possesses 
infinity. 

The  question  at  the  outset  is  not  whether  God  is 
infinite  or  finite,  but  whether  he  is  intelligent  or  not. 
It  is  my  object  to  establish  the  proposition  that  con¬ 
science  reveals  not  merely  a  Somewhat,  but  a  Some 
One  ;  and,  having  proved  from  the  point  of  view  of 
instinct  that  it  does,  I  must  now  justify  the  proof  by 
showing  that  reason  can  make  no  objections  to  that 
conclusion. 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


155 


While  we  are  considering  intelligence  as  cause,  I 
leave  out  of  view  entirely  the  inquiry  as  to  its  infin¬ 
ity.  The  question  is  not  even  raised,  in  the  opening 
of  an  argument  such  as  I  am  presenting  to  you, 
whether  God  is  infinite  or  not.  Can  we  prove  that 
he  is  Some  One  ?  That  is  the  initial  inquiry.  Can 
we  demonstrate  that  there  exists  in  the  universe 
an  intelligence  not  ourselves  ?  After  demonstrating 
that  the  Cause  which  stands  before  the  present  uni¬ 
verse  has  intelligence,  we  must  ask  whether  it  has 
unity.  After  having  proved  the  intelligence  and  the 
unity,  we  must  treat  the  infinity  as  a  wholly  different 
thing.  Separate  proofs  are  adapted  to  these  several 
traits.  Do  not  overload  the  definition  of  God  when 
you  begin  your  argument  from  reason  for  his  exist¬ 
ence  as  a  Person. 

5.  The  universe  exhibits  thought.  There  cannot 
be  thought  without  a  thinker.  The  cause  of  the  uni¬ 
verse,  therefore,  is  a  thinker.  And  a  thinker  is  a 
person. 

6.  But  the  universe  exhibits,  so  far  as  human  ob¬ 
servation  extends,  perfect  unity  of  thought.  Gravi¬ 
tation  is  the  same  everywhere,  and  so  are  light,  heat, 
and  the  other  natural  forces. 

7.  The  universe,  therefore,  exhibits  one  thought 
—  and  but  one. 

8.  Its  cause,  therefore,  is  One  Thinker,  and  but 
One ;  that  is,  One  Personal  Intelligence,  and  but 
One. 

The  philosophy  dominant  at  Yale  College  and  at 
Harvard,  at  Berlin  and  Halle,  at  Edinburgh  and  Ox* 


156 


CONSCIENCE. 


ford  and  Cambridge,  is  well  represented  by  these  in¬ 
cisive  sentences  from  the  ablest  book  on  metaphysics 
Yale  College  has  given  to  the  world.  “  The  uni¬ 
verse,”  says  President  Porter,  “  is  a  thought ,  as  well 
as  a  thing .  As  fraught  with  design  it  reveals  thought 
%  as  well  as  force.  The  thought  includes  the  origina¬ 
tion  of  the  forces  and  their  laws,  as  well  as  the  com¬ 
bination  and  use  of  them.  These  thoughts  must 
include  the  whole  universe :  it  follows,  then,  that 
the  universe  is  controlled  by  a  single  thought,  or  the 
thought  of  an  individual  thinker.”  ( The  Human 
Intellect ,  p.  661.) 

Let  us  pause,  and  cast  ourselves  abroad  on  the  wing 
of  imagination,  through  at  least  some  small  portion 
of  the  range  of  truth  disclosed  by  the  facts  that 
thought  implies  a  thinker,  and  that  the  thought  of 
the  universe  is  one.  Take  in  your  hand  the  mystic 
instrument  called  the  spectroscope,  and  bring  down 
light  from  the  two  planets  which  last  evening  I  saw 
near  each  other  in  the  infinite  azure.  Here  arrives  a 
far-travelled  ray  from  Mars ;  here  one  from  Saturn  ; 
here  one  from  Sirius ;  here  one  from  the  North  Star. 
It  left  that  orb  fifty  years  ago,  and  has  not  paused, 
and  is  here  at  last.  Certain  metals,  when  burned, 
always  produce  definite  dark  lines  in  the  colored 
lights  of  the  spectroscope.  We  know  that  zinc  pro¬ 
duces  a  line  in  a  particular  place,  lead  in  another 
place,  iron  in  another  place ;  and  we  bring  down  this 
light  of  Mars,  of  Saturn,  and  of  the  North  Star,  and 
here  are  the  very  lines  of  zinc  and  iron  and  lead. 
Matter  yonder,  fifty  years  distant  for  light,  we  thus 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


157 


know  to  be  much  what  it  is  here.  Meteors  have  fall¬ 
en  on  this  earth ;  the  dust  of  meteors  has  been  ab¬ 
sorbed  into  plants ;  and,  for  aught  I  know,  there  are 
in  your  arm  particles  that  came  from  Sirius.  The 
universe  has  light  in  it ;  and  the  laws  of  light  are  the 
same  here  and  at  the  farthest  point  visible  to  the  tel¬ 
escope.  Light  moves  in  straight  lines  here  and  in 
straight  lines  there.  Gravitation  is  the  same  thing 
here  and  yonder.  We  cannot  imagine  a  spot  in  the 
universe  where  the  whole  is  less  than  a  part,  or  where 
two  straight  lines  can  enclose  a  space,  or  where  any 
self-evident  truth  is  false.  Thus  we  feel  that  the 
universe  exhibits  not  only  a  plan,  but  a  uniform 
plan  ;  it  exhibits  not  only  thought,  but  harmonious 
thought.  It  is  a  thing,  but  it  is  a  thought ;  and  it  is 
not  merely  a  thought,  without  further  definition :  it 
is  one  thought,  interiorly  self-consistent,  and  not  a 
fagot  of  self-contradictions.  This  immeasurable  but 
incontrovertible  unity  is  before  our  eyes.  It  demon¬ 
strates  unity  in  the  thought  of  the  universe,  and 
therefore  unity  in  the  Thinker.  The  universe  ex¬ 
hibits  (me  thought,  ard  but  one.  Its  cause,  there¬ 
fore,  is  one  Thinker,  and  but  one ;  one  Personal  Intel¬ 
ligence,  and  but  one. 

Adhere,  without  a  particle  of  wavering,  to  the 
proposition  that  there  cannot  be  a  thought  without  a 
thinker.  That  is  Descartes’  fundamental  axiom,  the 
corner-stone  on  which  he  placed  himself  face  to  face 
with  all  scepticism  and  unrest.  This  is  the  one 
point  of  philosophy  where  certainty  is  firmest  up  to 
this  hour.  There  cannot  be  thought  without  a  per* 


158 


CONSCIENCE. 


son.  I  think :  therefore  I  am  a  person.  There  is 
thought  not  our  own  in  the  universe :  therefore  there 
is  a  Person  in  the  universe  not  ourselves !  The 
thought  is  one :  the  Thinker  therefore  is  One ! 
Sometimes,  when  I  stand  under  the  dome  of  that 
truth,  I  am  moved  as  the  constellations  never  stir 
me.  The  old  songs  once  sung  in  the  Temple  yonder 
on  a  hill  that  has  influenced  the  ages  more  than 
Athens  or  Rome,  come  into  my  thoughts ;  but  even 
their  melodies  do  not  always  express  fully  the  en¬ 
thusiasm  which  bursts  up  face  to  face  with  the  scien¬ 
tific  method  in  our  day.  We  must  expand  David’s 
outlook  upon  the  universe.  No  doubt  he  beheld  the 
moral  law  more  vividly  than  we  do ;  no  doubt  he 
had  interior  insight  such  as  belongs  to  that  strange 
race  of  which  he  was  a  representative.  The  Greek 
knew  art  better  than  we  do ;  compared  with  him  we 
are  uncouth.  In  contrast  with  the  Hebrew  in  his 
best  estate,  we  are  morally  imperceptive.  But  these 
grandeurs  of  law  which  God  seems  to  have  revealed 
to  us,  the  Aryan  race  :  these  grandeurs  of  co-ordina¬ 
tion  which  make  us,  in  our  fragmentariness  of  en¬ 
dowment,  sometimes  almost  content  with  a  mere 
Cosmic  Deity,  without  much  thought  of  a  person, — 
we  must  unite  them  all,  the  modern  with  the  Greek 
and  Hebrew  organ-pipes !  But  the  music  proceed 
ing  from  them  all  together,  falling,  expanding,  filling 
the  dome  of  the  universe  —  that  is  but  the  sound  of 
a  shepherd’s  pipe  compared  with  the  melodies  that 
will  rise  in  all  full-orbed  souls  whenever  the  ages 
have  been  taught  to  look  aloft,  with  adequate  intent* 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


159 


ness,  into  the  azure  represented  by  the  simple  cer¬ 
tainty  that  there  cannot  be  in  the  universe  thought 
not  our  own,  without  a  Person  not  ourselves ;  and 
that,  as  the  thought  is  one,  so  that  Personality  is  One. 
[Applause.]  Let  us  be  glad!  Let  us  lift  up  our 
hearts !  Let  us  say  to  the  eternal  gates  of  science, 
“Lift  up  your  heads,  that  the  King  of  Glory  may 
come  in.”  [Applause.]  The  day  is  coming  when 
another  age  will  say  this  to  the  gates  that  have  foun¬ 
dations.  The  day  is  coming  when  our  transitory 
stage  of  thought  —  simply  a  sophomoric  year  in 
human  investigation,  and  in  which  we  can  ask  more 
questions  than  we  can  answer  —  will  be  looked 
back  upon  with  disdain.  The  day  is  coming  when 
the  iron  lips  of  science  will  utter  the  words  of  the 
Psalmist  and  the  words  of  all  natural  law:  “Lift 
up  the  Gates  on  which  the  Pleiades  are  but  orna¬ 
ments  !  Lift  up  the  Gates  on  which  all  physical 
immensities  and  infinities  and  eternities  are  but  so 
much  filagree !  Lift  up  these  Gates,  and  the  King, 
Immortal,  Eternal,  Invisible,  not  ourselves,  and  who 
loves  Truth,  Beauty,  and  Righteousness,  will  come 
in  !  ”  [Applause.] 

9.  The  Infinite  and  the  Absolute  are  words  which 
mean  nothing  unless  we  understand  by  them  that 
which  is  absolute  or  infinite  in  some  given  attribute. 

Stuart  Mill  was  no  partisan  on  the  side  of  Theism, 
but  his  dissatisfaction  with  Mansel’s  and  Spencer’s  use 
of  the  words  Infinite  and  Absolute  is  well  known. 
Space  we  call  infinite,  and  we  mean  not  vaguely  that 
it  is  the  Infinite  or  the  Absolute,  but  that  it  is  infinite 


160 


CONSCIENCE. 


in  one  particular  quality,  namely,  extension.  If  you 
speak  of  space  as  the  Infinite  or  the  Absolute,  with* 
out  stating  in  what  quality  the  object  meant  is  infinite 
or  absolute,  you  at  once  confuse  men,  because  you 
are  not  exprtssing  a  definite  idea.  Herbert  Spence., 
Mansel,  and  their  followers,  are  constantly  telling  us 
we  must  think  thus  and  so  concerning  the  Infinite 
and  the  Absolute.  Now  substitute  for  these  terms 
the  Infinite  Being,  the  Absolute  Being,  and  very  often 
their  expressions  will  not  make  sense,  or  make  noth¬ 
ing  short  of  blasphemy.  The  Absolute,  it  is  said, 
must  contain  every  thing.  “  There  is  a  contradic¬ 
tion,”  says  Mansel,  “in  conceiving  the  Infinite  and 
Absolute  as  personal ;  and  there  is  a  contradiction  in 
conceiving  it  as  impersonal.  It  cannot,  without  con¬ 
tradiction,  be  represented  as  active ;  nor,  without 
equal  contradiction,  be  represented  as  inactive.” 
(. Limits  of  Religious  Thought ,  Lect.  II.)  “  To  de¬ 
fine  God,”  said  Spinoza,  “is  to  deny  him.”  If  we 
limit  God  by  saying  that  he  cannot  do  evil,  we  are 
putting  a  bound  upon  his  nature,  and  he  is  no  longer 
infinite.  Well,  all  this  dense  and  often  deadly  vapor 
arose  from  a  false  definition  of  the  Absolute  and  the 
Infinite.  Say  an  infinite  being,  one  who  is  infinite  in 
goodness,  cannot  be  evil,  and  then  say  that  such  an 
affirmation  implies  limitation  of  God  !  Say  that  two 
straight  lines  cannot  enclose  a  space,  and  then  affirm 
that  such  an  affirmation  involves  limitation  of  the 
qualities  of  the  object  that  is  infinite,  and  you  con¬ 
fuse  all  thought,  simply  because  you  are  yourself  con 
fused.  The  Absolute,  the  Infinite,  are  words  that 


i 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


161 


have  no  real  significance  unless  taken  in  connection 
with  some  quality.  You  must  come  down  to  the 
concrete  always  to  get  the  meaning  of  these  abstract 
terms;  and  the  men  who  sit  among  the  glaciers  of 
the  Alps,  and  tell  us  the  Alps  cannot  be  passed,  are 
sitting,  not  on  the  concrete  rock,  not  even  on  the 
snow,  but  on  the  fog.  [Applause.]  We  speak  of 
time  as  infinite,  but  we  mean  only  that  it  is  infinite 
in  one  respect,  duration.  In  a  similar  sense,  the  one 
Thinker  who  stands  behind  the  one  thought  of  the 
Universe  has  been  termed  infinite  in  the  sense  of  pos¬ 
sessing  infinite  power,  and  absolute  in  the  sense  of  ab¬ 
solute,  finished,  completed  goodness  and  knowledge. 

10.  It  is  certain  that  infinite  space  is  space ;  infi¬ 
nite  time  is  time ;  infinite  power  is  power ;  infinite 
knowledge  is  knowledge  ;  and  infinite  goodness  is 
goodness. 

11.  What  is  affirmed,  therefore,  in  calling  the 
Divine  Attributes  of  power,  knowledge,  and  good¬ 
ness  infinite,  is  intelligible,  and  involves  no  self-con¬ 
tradiction. 

12.  Except  the  element  of  infinity,  any  given  qual¬ 
ity  is  the  same  in  its  infinite  as  in  its  finite  develop¬ 
ment.  We  cannot  adequately  conceive  the  quantity, 
but  we  may  the  quality,  of  an  infinity. 

Space  is  just  the  same  in  its  infinite  as  in  its  finite 
development.  Power  is  just  the  same  in  its  infinite 
as  in  its  finite  development.  Indeed,  we  never  hear 
objection  to  likening  God  to  man  brought  against  this 
attribute  of  power.  We  are  told  that  we  are  con¬ 
stantly  falling  into  anthropomorphism,  but  that  the 


162 


CONSCIENCE. 


tendency  of  science  is  to  deanthropomorphization. 
This  is  getting  to  be  a  very  popular  word,  my  friends, 
and  so  we  must  accustom  ourselves  to  it.  Anthropo- 
morphization,  —  that  means  simply  an  excessive  ten¬ 
dency  to  liken  God  to  man,  and  deanthropomorphiza- 
tion  means  the  opposite.  Spencer  and  his  school  often 
forget  that  there  is  anthropomorphism  in  their  own 
characterization  of  the  Cause  of  the  Universe  as  a 
Power.  Goethe  said  we  never  know  how  anthro¬ 
pomorphic  we  are ;  and  I  think  Matthew  Arnold  him¬ 
self  does  not  know  how  anthropomorphic  he  is.  He 
is  constantly  employing  phraseology  that  implies 
personality  in  God.  “  The  Eternal  not  ourselves 
loves ;  ”  “  the  Eternal  not  ourselves  hates.”  “  The 
Eternal  not  ourselves,”  he  personifies  constantly.  Of 
course  he  explains  that  by  personification  he  means 
only  poetry.  But  this  poetry  is  organic,  instinctive, 
constitutional.  Matthew  Arnold’s  famous  proposi¬ 
tion,  that  the  Jews  did  not  believe  in  a  God  except 
poetically,  that  they  always  knew  that  there  was  no 
Person  behind  the  Eternal  Power,  not  themselves, 
which  they  thought  made  for  righteousness,  is  one  of 
the  absurdest  of  all  the  eccentricities  of  the  school  of 
Nescience.  It  really  has  made  no  impression  on 
scholarly  thought,  much  as  we  revere  Matthew  Ar¬ 
nold  and  his  father.  If  the  father  were  alive,  I  think 
some  logical  chastisement,  at  least,  would  be  applied 
to  the  son.  For  his  father  had  a  stalwart  grasp  upon 
philosophy  as  well  as  the  historic  sense.  Dr.  Dale 
told  me  the  other  day  that  Matthew  Arnold  once 
said  to  him  in  a  parlor  in  London,  “  I  stand  about 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


163 


where  my  father  did ;  ”  and  he  considered  that  re* 
mark  of  Arnold’s  an  indication  of  a  lack  of  careful 
habits  of  discrimination.  Dr.  Dale  replied,  “  Mat¬ 
thew  Arnold,  your  father  believed  in  the  personality 
of  God,  and  was  inspired  by  that  truth  to  heroic  life ; 
and  he  believed  that  God  has  manifested  himself  in 
human  history;  and  these  things  make  a  difference 
between  your  own  views  and  his.”  And  Matthew 
Arnold’s  only  reply  was  given  in  a  dazed,  uncertain 
way,  “  Well,  perhaps  they  do.”  When  Arnold’s  best 
expressions  agree  with  the  Biblical  language,  they 
do  so  because  his  instinct  moves  him  toward  the  atti¬ 
tude  which  the  Bible  words  express ;  and  that  attitude 
is  adoration  before  God  as  a  Person.  That  the  Jew 
did  not  believe  God  to  be  a  Person,  is  a  proposition 
just  as  rational  as  that  the  Greek  did  not  believe  art 
to  be  a  worthy  field  for  human  effort.  W e  might  as 
well  say  that  the  Roman  Empire  never  existed  as  to 
say  that  the  Jew  did  not  believe  in  a  personal  God. 

13.  What  is  inconsistent  with  goodness  will  be 
inconsistent  with  infinite  goodness. 

Just  here  I  must  pause  to  show  you  the  stalwart 
manliness  of  John  Stuart  Mill.  Mansel,  believing 
in  Sir  William  Hamilton’s  phrases  about  the  Infi¬ 
nite  and  the  Absolute,  a  few  passages  which  the 
master  never  expanded  into  a  system,  undertook  to 
assert  that  God  may  be  so  different  from  man  that 
if  there  is  objectionable  truth  in  revelation  we  must 
not  apply  to  it  very  sternly  the  human  standards  of 
morality.  I  revere  Mansel;  but  his  book  on  the 
Limits  of  Religious  Thought  seems  to  me,  as  it 


164 


CONSCIENCE. 


seemed  to  John  Stuart  Mill,  one  of  the  most  mis¬ 
chievous  of  modern  productions.  In  the  name  of 
the  limitation  of  the  human  faculties  and  the  relativ¬ 
ity  of  all  knowledge,  —  a  truth  which  I  do  not  deny, 
in  the  sense  in  which  Sir  William  Hamilton  admitted 
it,  —  Mansel  affirmed  that  we  never  can  know  intel¬ 
lectually  that  God  is  a  Person ;  his  goodness  may  not 
have  laws  represented  by  the  self-evident  truths  of 
conscience ;  and,  therefore,  if  difficulties  arise  in 
revelation,  we  must  regard  the  universe  as  a  scheme 
imperfectly  comprehended,  and,  in  case  of  the  Bible, 
treat  it  leniently  in  detail  after  its  general  authority  is 
once  proved.  Stuart  Mill,  remembering  that  infinite 
goodness  is  goodness,  and  that  what  is  inconsistent 
with  goodness  must  be  inconsistent  with  infinite  good¬ 
ness,  sat  down  one  day,  and  wrote  his  opinion  of 
Mansel’s  book  :  u  To  say  that  God’s  goodness  may  be 
different  in  kind  from  man’s  goodness,  what  is  it  but 
saying,  with  a  slight  change  of  phraseology,  that  God 
may  possibly  not  be  good  ?  To  assert  in  words  what 
we  do  not  think  in  meaning,  is  as  suitable  a  definition 
as  can  be  given  of  a  moral  falsehood.  If,  instead  of 
the  glad  tidings  that  there  exists  a  Being  in  whom  all 
the  excellences  which  the  highest  human  mind  can 
conceive  exist  in  a  degree  inconceivable  to  us,  I  am 
informed  that  the  world  is  ruled  by  a  Being  whose 
attributes  are  infinite,  but  what  they  are  we  cannot 
learn,  nor  what  are  the  principles  of  his  government, 
except  that  the  highest  human  morality  which  we  are 
capable  of  conceiving  does  not  sanction  them,  con¬ 
vince  me  of  it,  and  I  will  bear  my  fate  as  I  may.  But 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


165 


when  I  am  told  that  I  must  believe  this,  and  at  the 
same  lime  call  this  Being  by  the  names  which  express 
and  affirm  the  highest  human  morality,  I  say  in  plain 
terms  that  I  will  not.  Whatever  power  such  a  Being 
may  have  over  me,  there  is  one  thing  which  he  shall 
not  do :  he  shall  not  compel  me  to  worship  him.  I 
will  call  no  being  good  who  is  not  what  I  mean  when 
I  apply  that  epithet  to  my  fellow-creatures ;  and,  if 
such  a  being  can  sentence  me  to  hell  for  not  so  call¬ 
ing  him,  to  hell  I  will  go.”  (Mill,  John  Stuart, 
Examination  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Philosophy, 
vol.  i.  chap,  vii.) 

There  was  an  earthquake  rent,  into  which  this 
whole  philosophy  of  Nescience  will  ultimately  be 
cast  in  the  name  of  logic,  and  with  the  acclamations 
of  all  thinking  men. 

14.  The  attributes  of  knowledge,  power,  and  good¬ 
ness,  each  of  them  in  an  infinite  degree,  can  be  intel¬ 
ligibly  and  without  self-contradiction  attributed  to 
one  Thinker,  and  to  but  One ;  and  that  One  He 
whose  thought  the  origination  and  preservation  of 
the  universe  exhibit. 

15.  Immense  distinctions  exist  between  the  Abso¬ 
lute  defined  as  the  unrelated,  or  that  which  exists 
out  of  all  relations,  and  the  Absolute  defined  as  the 
independent,  or  that  which  exists  out  of  one  set  of 
relations,  that  is,  out  of  all  relations  of  dependence. 

16.  It  is  in  the  latter  sense  only  that  scientific 
Theism  asserts  that  the  One  Person  whose  existence 
is  proved  by  the  one  thought  of  the  universe,  is 
absolute. 


166 


CONSCIENCE. 


17.  Great  distinctions  exist  between  the  Absolute 
defined  as  that  which  is  capable  of  existing  out  of 
relation  to  any  thing  else,  and  defined  as  that  which 
is  incapable  of  existing  in  relation  to  any  thing  else. 

18.  It  is  in  the  former  sense  that  scientific  Theism 
calls  God  absolute. 

19.  It  is  in  the  latter  that  Herbert  Spencer,  Man- 
sel,  and  others  who  deny  that  we  can  prove  intellectu¬ 
ally  that  God  is  a  Person,  call  God  absolute. 

20.  This  false  definition  overlooks  the  distinction 
between  infinite  and  all,  and  leads  Mansel  to  Hegel’s 
conclusion  that  God’s  nature  embraces  every  tiling, 
evil  included. 

21.  The  definition  which  Mansel  and  Spencer  hold 
is  repudiated  by  scientific  Theism.  (See  Mabti- 
NEATJ,  Philosophical  Essays ,  Science,  Nescience ,  and 
Faith ;  President  Pobteb,  The  Human  Intellect ,  last 
chapter;  President  McCosh,  The  Divine  Government; 
Hodge,  Systematic  Theology ,  vol.  i.  pp.  381-432; 
Nitsch,  Rothe,  Teendeleubueg,  Doeneb,  Uleici, 
and  Julius  Mulleb,  passim ;  and,  especially,  Mill’s 
Examination  of  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  vol.  i.  chaps, 
i.  to  vii.) 

22.  With  that  repudiation  all  the  alleged  difficul¬ 
ties  that  arise  from  asserting  the  personality  of  God 
vanish. 

23.  Herbert  Spencer  and  his  school  admit  that  the 
Eternal  Power,  not  ourselves,  which  makes  for  right¬ 
eousness  in  the  universe,  is  omnipresent,  self-exist¬ 
ent,  omnipotent,  and  in  this  sense  infinite  and 
absolute. 


THE  FIRST  CAUSE  AS  PERSONAL. 


167 


In  a  recent  volume  of  most  searching  applications 
of  the  scientific  method  to  philosophical  thought, 
Thomas  Hill  writes :  “  Spencer  says  that-  our  belief 
in  an  Omnipresent  Eternal  Cause  of  the  Universe  has 
a  higher  warrant  than  any  other  belief,  that  is,  that 
the  existence  of  such  a  Cause  is  the  most  certain  of 
all  certainties ;  but  asserts  that  we  can  assign  to  it 
no  attributes  whatever,  and  that  it  is  absolutely 
unknown  and  unknowable.  Yet,  in  his  very  state¬ 
ment  of  its  existence,  he  assigns  to  the  Ultimate 
Cause  four  attributes :  Being,  Causal  Energy,  Omni¬ 
presence,  and  Eternity.  And  afterwards  he  implicitly 
assigns  to  it  two  other  attributes — repeatedly  ex¬ 
pressing  his  faith  that  the  Cosmos  is  obedient  to  law, 
and  that  this  law  is  of  beneficent  result,  which  is  an 
implicit  ascription  of  wisdom  and  love  to  the  ulti¬ 
mate  cause.  All  thinkers  concede  that  human  rea¬ 
son  is  competent  to  discover  the  existence  of  an 
Ultimate  Cause,  to  form  the  inductions  of  its  Being, 
its  Causal  Energy  or  Power,  its  Omnipresence  and 
Eternity.”  (Hill,  Thomas,  ex-President  of  Har¬ 
vard  University:  The  Natural  Sources  of  Theology , 
pp.  33,  42.) 

24.  The  intelligence,  the  unity,  and  in  a  correct 
sense  the  infinity,  of  the  Cause  of  the  Universe,  are 
therefore  proved  in  entire  harmony  with  the  scien¬ 
tific  method  on  the  one  hand,  and  Christian  Theism 
on  the  other. 

Our  best  conclusion  is  adoring  silence  before  the 
slowly  lifting  Gates  through  which  the  Eternal,  who 
holds  infinities  and  eternities  in  his  hands  as  the 


168 


CONSCIENCE. 


small  dust  in  the  balance,  is  passing  into  science,  into 
politics,  into  the  perishing  and  dangerous  populations 
of  the  world,  into  the  Norse  American  as  well  as  into 
the  Puritan  American,  into  literature,  into  woman’s 
heart,  into  conscience,  into  the  future,  and  so  leading 
us  into  that  world  into  which  all  men  haste.  He  is 
there,  he  is  here  ;  and  our  best  speech  before  him,  in 
the  name  of  science,  is  silence  and  action.  [Ap- 
plause.J 


m 

IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


THE  EIGHTY-SEVENTH  LECTURE  IN  THE  BOSTON  MONDAY 
LECTURESHIP,  DELIVERED  IN  TREMONT  TEMPLE, 


NOV.  12. 


Every  man  brings  such  a  degree  of  this  light  into  the  world  with 
him,  that,  though  it  cannot  bring  him  to  heaven,  yet  it  will  carry 
him  so  far  that  if  he  follows  it  faithfully  he  shall  meet  with  another 
light  which  shall  carry  him  quite  through.  —  South. 


Alle  Form  sie  kommt  von  oben.  —  Goethe 


VXL 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 

PEELUDE  ON  CUEEENT  EVENTS. 

When  the  Northern  Pacific  Railway  is  finished, 
America  will  be  one  thousand  miles  nearer  China 
than  now.  Ships  from  the  Oregon  coast  pass  to 
Saghalien  on  a  comparatively  small  circle  of  the 
globe,  while,  from  San  Francisco  by  the  way  of  the 
Sandwich  Islands,  they  sail  to  Japan  over  the  track 
of  a  great  circle.  It  is  practically  settled  that  a 
bridge  is  to  be  built  by  commerce  across  the  North¬ 
ern  Pacific — between  what  two  abutments? 

On  the  one  hand  we  have  a  largely  unoccupied 
country,  giving  exceptional  honor  to  free  labor ; 
offering  to  the  workingman  meat  every  day  for 
dinner ;  and  providing  for  him  a  competence  if  he  is 
industrious  and  economical.  On  the  other,  we  have 
a  land  supposed  to  contain  from  450,000,000  to  550,- 
000,000  people,  suffocated,  and  many  of  them  starved. 
It  is  only  a  question  of  time,  whether  a  bridge  built 
between  two  such  shores  will  be  used.  It  is  only  a 
question  of  time,  whether  Chinese  immigration  is  to 

become  an  important  organizing  force  on  the  Pacific 

m 


172 


CONSCIENCE. 


coast,  and  redemptive  for  China  by  reflex  influences 
from  America. 

It  seems  to  be  forgotten  in  the  United  States.,  that 
to-day  the  Chinese  are  the  great  colonizers  of  the 
East.  The  natives  of  Cambodia,  Sumatra,  Java,  the 
Philippine  Islands,  Timor,  and  Borneo,  are  fading 
away  before  civilization.  Europeans  cannot  cope 
with  the  insalubrity  of  the  torrid  East-Indian  cli¬ 
mates.  The  Chinese  alone  have  proved  themselves 
able  to  maintain  vigorous  physical  life  in  these 
regions.  They  are  entering  them  by  thousands,  and 
in  some  cases  tens  of  thousands,  every  year,  and  that 
in  an  ever  increasing  ratio.  They  are  rapidly  colo¬ 
nizing  Mantchuria,  Mongolia,  and  Thibet.  A  stream 
of  emigration  has  of  late  set  toward  Australia,  New 
Zealand,  and  the  Pacific  coast  of  America.  (Para- 
phlet  published  by  English  residents  of  Shanghai , 
May  16,  1877.) 

Ah  Sin  comes  to  California  now  hungry.  He  has 
a  little  meat  to  eat  every  day.  Letters  in  strange 
characters  go  back  to  the  rivers  of  China,  containing 
the  wonderful  information,  which  so  surprised  Charles 
Dickens  when  he  first  landed  in  Boston,  that  work¬ 
ingmen  in  the  United  States  can  have  meat  to  eat 
three  hundred  and*  sixty-five  days  of  the  year  at 
dinner.  Wandering  up  and  down  in  the  Chinese 
quarter  of  San  Francisco,  undoubtedly  we  meet  the 
vices  of  heathendom  ;  and  of  course  there  is  nothing 
equal  to  those  in  Vienna  or  Paris. 

“  For  ways  that  are  dark, 

And  tricks  that  are  vain, 

The  heathen  Chinee  is  peculiar.” 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


173 


But  the  Californian  is  not,  the  Viennese  is  not,  the 
Parisian  is  not !  Opium  fumes  are  rising  here  from 
the  corner  of  the  street ;  they  proceed  out  of  a  cellar. 
But  absinthe  is  used  among  the  soft  ladies  of  Paris,  I 
have  heard,  and  sometimes  is  not  unknown  in  certain 
spoiled  luxurious  circles  of  the  United  States.  Of 
course  the  Chinaman  is  to  blame,  and  we  are  not. 
Nevertheless  his  old  heaven  of  mythology  is  a  rather 
better  one  than  ours  was.  Wendell  Phillips  says 
that  if  you  wish  to  know  the  real  traits  of  nations 
you  must  go  back  to  the  time  when,  in  paganism, 
they  constructed  mythology,  and  notice  what  their 
heavens  were.  These  Chinamen  had  a  Confucius  to 
teach  them ;  and,  although  that  leader  of  religious 
thought  did  not  make  any  assertions  about  immor¬ 
tality,  he  did  teach  reverence  for  parents  and  schol¬ 
arship.  The  peace  and  permanence  of  the  Chinese 
Empire  seem  to  have  depended  very  largely  upon 
that  one  trait,  cultivated  by  pagan  religion.  Carlyle 
says  that  most  European  governments,  with  their 
sudden  revolutions,  might  take  many  a  shrewd  hint 
from  China.  Civil-service  reform  can  look  to  the 
3  egion  of  the  great  rivers,  falling  from  the  Himalayas 
into  the  Yellow  Sea,  for  examples  of  competitive 
examinations  for  public  office,  conducted  with  far 
more  rigor  and  general  justice  than  are  any  other 
political  contests  on  the  globe.  We  had  a  mythol¬ 
ogy  in  which  our  fathers  were  represented  as  in  the 
next  life  drinking  mead  out  of  the  skulls  of  their 
enemies;  as  becoming  intoxicated  in  Valhalla,  in 
order  the  more  vigorously  to  hew  each  other  to 


174 


CONSCIENCE. 


pieces ;  and  as  rising  after  the  bloodless  conflicts  to 
become  whole  again,  and  again  to  become  intoxicated 
and  enter  into  the  pastime  of  hewing  limb  from 
limb.  We  have  barbaric  blood  in  our  veins  yet, 
and  our  temptations  from  Valhalla  mead  are  not 
ended.  Enough  has  been  said  of  Chinese  opium- 
eaters,  but  not  enough  of  the  greed  of  English  mer¬ 
chants  who  forced  the  Chinese  trade  into  the  popular 
sale  of  that  drug. 

We  wander  up  and  down  the  Chinese  quarter  of 
San  Francisco,  and  hear  strange  language  from 
roughs.  “I  would  as  soon  kill  a  Chinaman  as  a 
dog,”  says  one  to  another.  That  threat  proceeds, 
perhaps,  from  some  son  of  an  Emerald  Isle,  emigrants 
from  which  New  York  City  considers  her  chief  bless- 
mg! 

I  am  aware  that  when  the  elephant  plucks  down 
foliage  from  the  oak,  it  is  the  foliage  that  becomes 
elephant,  and  not  the  elephant  that  becomes  foliage. 
Our  foreign  emigration  will  be  treated  in  that  way, 
even  if  it  is  Irish ;  but  the  elephant  has  trouble, 
especially  in  the  ostrich  stomach  of  New  York.  If 
you  insist  that  he  shall  endure  the  assimilation  of 
tons  of  Irish  foliage,  in  New  York,  why  are  you  so 
ready  to  insist  that  he  shall  make  no  attempts  to 
assimilate  a  few  sprays  from  the  Chinese  oak  ? 
Many  are  eager  to  pass  a  law  prohibiting  all  Chinese 
emigrants  from  acquiring  the  right  of  voting  here. 
It  is  clear  from  experience  that  the  Chinaman  will 
not  be  seen  as  often  drunk  as  the  Irishman;  it  is 
clear  that  he  will  not  be  seen  drunk  as  often  as  the 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


175 


low-paid  American  laborer.  Ah  Sin  has  come  into 
collision  with  low-paid  labor  on  the  Pacific  coast, 
principally  because  he  does  not  get  drunk,  lives  on 
rice,  and  sleeps  on  a  board.  His  vices  have  come 
with  him,  for  a  poor  part  of  the  population  around 
corrupt  Canton  has  crossed  over  under  the  spur  of 
the  greed  of  the  great  Chinese  emigration  companies. 
Undoubtedly  the  women  found  in  the  Chinese 
quarters  are  unreportably  vicious.  They  are  slaves ; 
they  are  bought  and  sold  to  a  bondage  altogether 
more  ignominious  and  awful  than  the  black  race 
ever  endured  on  this  continent.  You  sat  still  while 
the  village  of  Antioch  was  burned  to  the  ground  on 
the  1st  of  May,  1876,  and  when  the  Chinese  inhab¬ 
itants  there  were  warned  that  they  could  remain  in 
eight  of  the  ashes  of  their  huts  only  under  the 
penalty  of  death.  Anti-coolie  clubs  all  over  Cali¬ 
fornia  sent  messages  to  officials  at  Washington,  that 
if  measures  were  not  taken  to  repress  Chinese  immi¬ 
gration,  a  similar  fate  was  in  store  for  Chinatown. 
How  many  Chinamen  are  there?  Sixty  thousand. 
How  many  Chinamen  are  there  in  California?  Two 
hundred  thousand. 

What  have  they  done  ?  They  hung  over  the 
beetling  crags  of  the  Sierra  Nevadas,  and  tunnelled 
them,  when  the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad  was  built ; 
and  they  will  do  the  same  work  in  the  gorges  of  tho 
Rocky  Mountains,  when  the  Northern  Pacific  is 
built.  They  were  sent  down,  mired  to  the  waist  in 
mud,  to  build  levees,  when  San  Francisco  was  threat¬ 
ened  with  an  inundation,  aiid  when  no  white  man 


176  CONSCIENCE. 

would  take  the  position.  They  have  performed  most 
of  the  manual  labor  in  the  construction  of  the  rail¬ 
ways  which  have  raised  the  price  of  the  Californian 
wheat-lands  froln  one  dollar  to  twenty-five  dollars 
an  acre.  They  have  monopolized  by  fair  competi¬ 
tion  the  linen-washing  of  San  Francisco.  Ah  Sin 
sometimes  smokes  opium,  no  doubt,  and  gambles ; 
but  he  is  mainly  concerned  in  getting  a  little  meat 
for  dinner,  and  enough  money  to  enable  him  to  go 
back  and  bury  his  bones  in  China.  (See  an  elo¬ 
quent  paper  on  the  Chinese  in  California,  read  at 
Syracuse,  N.Y.,  by  William  Edwards  Park,  Oct. 
23.) 

How  can  we  reach  him?  By  baiting  the  Gospel 
hook  with  the  English  alphabet.  [Applause.]  We 
want  a  few  schools  opened  in  San  Francisco.  We 
want  a  few  men  to  put  Ah  Sin  in  a  home  when  his 
hut  is  burned  up.  Here  is  a  man  ready  to  do  that, 
and  he  is  employed  by  the  American  Missionary  So¬ 
ciety.  Is  he  doing  any  good?  When  Antioch  was 
burned,  he  received  some  of  the  refugees  into  his 
own  house.  When  Ah  Sin’s  hut  was  mobbed  and 
razed  to  the  ground  the  other  night  in  the  Chinese 
quarters,  he  found  him  some  chambers  the  next  day, 
and  helped  him  through  the  pinch.  The  flaming  ar¬ 
ticles  in  the  city  press,  against  the  Chinese,  this  man 
sometimes  answers,  and  does  it  eloquently.  He  is 
opening  schools  wherever  he  can,  in  the  Chinese 
quarters,  and  it  is  found  that  his  position  soothes  the 
waters.  He  is  respected  by  all  the  better  class  in 
San  Francisco  ;  and  little  by  little  the  Chinese  come 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


177 


to  believe  in  him.  He  ought  to  open  twenty  schools. 
Why  does  he  not  ?  He  has  twenty  Ah  Sins  whom 
he  might  succor.  He  is  a  man  of  enterprise,  and 
looks  sagacious.  Why  are  his  enterprises  languish¬ 
ing?  His  pockets  are  empty  because  you  have  put 
little  into  them. 

The  mayor,  and  the  aldermen,  and  the  politicians, 
—  all  honorable  men,  no  doubt,  as  Cassius  was  an 
honorable  man,  —  take  note  of  Ah  Sin,  and  make  a 
law  that  any  laundry-house  which  delivers  linen  by 
a  two-horse  wagon  shall  pay  one  dollar  a  month  tax, 
and  that  every  laundry-house  that  delivers  by  basket 
and  by  hand  shall  pay  ten  dollars,  —  laws  like  those 
of  Philip  II.  of  Spain,  against  the  Moors.  When 
all  these  things  happen,  we  need  to  be  reminded  of 
what  Du  Bois  Reymond  has  told  us,  that  nervous 
influence  travels  only  seventy  feet  a  second  in  the 
body.  If  the  floating  island  we  call  a  whale  is  har¬ 
pooned  in  the  flukes,  it  is  a  full  second,  if  the  fish  is 
thirty-five  feet  long,  before  the  message  can  go  to  the 
brain,  and  a  return  message  be  sent  to  the  flukes, 
commanding  them  to  drop  into  the  sea.  So  wide  is 
America,  so  broadly  do  we  roll  in  strength  and  size 
in  the  ocean  of  time,  that  one  of  our  greatest  dan¬ 
gers  is  that  distance  may  make  us  apathetic  to  our 
own  wounds.  We  may  be  harpooned  on  the  Pacific 
coast,  and  never  know  the  fact  in  Boston.  [Ap¬ 
plause.]  The  breadth  of  our  land  gives  most  of  us 
the  impression  that  the  Chinese  question  is  a  bagatelle. 
Before  the  harpooned  flukes  can  be  dropped  into  the 
sea,  Ah  Sin  is  mobbed,  and  his  village  burned. 


178 


CONSCIENCE. 


Of  course  the  Chinese  do  not  settle  here,  and  are, 
in  some  sense,  an  excrescence  on  our  population. 
The  truth  is,  however,  that  irreversible  laws  of  trade 
are  likely  to  bring  a  large  influx  from  the  suffocated 
Chinese  Empire  to  our  Pacific  Coast.  One-quarter 
of  the  population  of  the  globe  lives  in  that  empire. 
They  are  dull  men,  you  say.  Well,  they  invented 
printing,  and  gunpowder,  and  the  mariners’  compass ; 
they  were  the  first  to  make  these  innovations,  so 
scholars  say ;  and  silk,  and  porcelain,  and  a  number 
of  other  very  fine  articles,  they  learned  to  use  before 
we  did.  There  is  behind  them  a  training  to  order¬ 
liness.  If  they  are  treated  as  well  as  we  treat  other 
foreigners  under  similar  circumstances,  if  our  doors 
on  the  Pacific  Coast  are  not  all  to  be  barbaric  ones, 
if  the  Chinaman,  while  he  is  peacable  and  industri¬ 
ous,  is  to  be  allowed  the  fair  rights  of  an  American 
citizen,  there  will  be  more  emigration.  Even  if  he  is 
abused,  there  will  be  emigration.  I  do  not  know 
when,  but  before  another  centennial,  or  before  the 
third,  there  will  be  an  important  Chinese  element,  on 
the  Pacific  coast.  From  this  certainty,  arises  the  cry 
of  the  roughs  and  hoodlums  of  whizzing  San  Fran¬ 
cisco,  and  their  call  to  the  people  of  the  East  to 
crowd  out  the  Chinaman,  and  to  make  him  submit 
to  taxation  without  representation.  He  now  pays 
five  million  dollars  annually  to  government,  and  cor¬ 
porations,  and  land-owners,  and  has  no  right  to  vote. 
When  all  kinds  of  indignities  are  put  upon  him,  and 
public  sentiment,  represented  by  the  religious  bodies, 
is  decidedly  on  his  side,  it  is  time  for  the  whale  — 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


179 


very  like  a  whale  —  to  give  the  order  for  the  drop¬ 
ping  of  the  flukes.  This  question  between  Irishmen 
and  Chinamen  is  important,  simply  as  one  phase  of 
the  labor  problem.  Surely  Ah  Sin,  while  he  is  indus¬ 
trious,  and  spends  less  for  drinks  than  Hans  or 
Patrick,  has  an  equal  right  to  the  protection  of  the 
police. 

Especially  has  Ah  Sin  the  right  to  be  sent  home 
with  a  good  opinion  of  Christian  civilization.  [Ap¬ 
plause.]  Thousands  of  these  Chinamen  have  gone 
back  to  the  pleasant  but  overburdened  land,  which 
stretches  its  cities  almost  in  a  continuous  line  from 
the  Yellow  Sea  to  the  Himalayas.  These  returned 
men  are  scattered  through  a  population,  nine-tenths 
of  whom  have  never  heard  the  central  truths  of 
Christian  civilization.  My  opinion  is,  that  there  has 
never  been  such  a  strategic  opportunity  offered  to 
the  American  Church  as  now,  so  far  as  the  evangeli¬ 
zation  of  China  is  concerned.  We  have  a  large  Chi¬ 
nese  population  here,  eager  to  learn,  and  eager  to 
earn;  and  with  these  two  purposes  behind  every 
Chinaman  who  lands  here,  to  earn  something,  and 
learn  the  English  language,  we  can  draw  him  enough 
aside,  to  be  disgusted  with  his  joss-house,  and  to  go 
back  reporting  that  Christian  civilization  is  better 
than  Asiatic.  When  we  are  asked  to  vote  the  China¬ 
man  out  of  this  land,  we  are  to  remember  that  for 
the  spread  of  the  highest  civilization  through  a  quar¬ 
ter  of  the  population  of  the  globe,  California  is  the 
door  to  China.  [Applause.] 


180 


CONSCIENCE. 


THE  LECTURE. 

There  is  a  celebrated  oration  by  Massillon  in  which 
he  adjures  his  hearers,  at  a  certain  point,  to  imagine 
the  doors  of  the  temple  in  which  he  was  speaking  to 
be  closed.  He  then  directs  them  to  look  upward, 
and  imagine  the  roof  opening  upon  the  azure,  and 
the  last  day  appearing  in  the  infinite  spaces.  The 
judgment  is  set,  and  you  are  alone,  and  how  many 
here  will  judge  themselves  to  be  among  the  elect? 
Massillon  was  philosophically  wise  in  what  you  call 
a  strange  rhetorical  device,  for  it  is  certain  that  only 
in  solitude,  only  in  the  hush  of  the  visible  presence 
of  death  and  the  judgment,  can  we  understand  con¬ 
science.  Voltaire  admired  this  oration  of  Massillon’s. 
When  Louis  XIV.  heard  it  in  the  chapel  at  Ver¬ 
sailles,  he  covered  his  face  with  his  trembling  hands. 
When  it  was  delivered  in  the  Church  of  St.  Eustache, 
in  Paris,  the  whole  audience  rose  with  a  sudden 
movement,  uttering  a  deep,  wailing  cry  of  terror  and 
faith,  as  if  a  thunderbolt  had  suddenly  fallen  in  the 
middle  of  the  temple.  (Massillon,  Sur  le  Petit 
Nombre  des  Plus.  See  Le  Cardinal  Maury,  Essai 
sur  V Eloquence  de  la  Chaired) 

The  inner  sky,  like  the  outer,  is  studied  best  in  its 
depths,  when  God  shuts  up  the  world  in  his  ebony 
box,  to  use  George  Herbert’s  phrase.  Our  secret 
thoughts  are  rarely  heard  except  in  secret.  No  man 
knows  what  conscience  is  until  he  understands  what 
solitude  can  teach  him  concerning  it.  Thomas  Paino 
could  not  bear  to  be  left  alone.  Many  an  inmate  of 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


181 


prison-wards  dreads  solitary  confinement  more  than 
any  thing  else.  The  secret  of  solitude  is  that  there 
is  no  solitude.  At  Mount  Holyoke,  at  Wellesley,  and 
in  Vassar  College,  every  pupil  is  advised  to  be  a  cer¬ 
tain  period  each  day  alone,  with  the  Bible  and  with 
God.  If  any  here  think  they  have  sounded  the  depths 
of  their  own  natures,  if  any  suppose  they  have  mapped 
all  the  constellations  in  the  heavens  even  of  Transcen¬ 
dentalism,  let  them  thoughtfully  and  persistently  try 
the  experiment  of  looking  out  of  the  cool,  deep  well 
of  solitude  into  the  sky ;  and  even  at  noonday  they 
will  find  there  vast  depths,  and  constellations  visible, 
fit  to  blanch  the  cheeks.  These  are  facts.  That  is 
the  way  human  nature  acts.  Therefore  Massillon 
shall  call  pause  here  to-day,  while  I  ask  whether 
conscience  is-  infallible,  and  whether  in  its  infallibil¬ 
ity  we  have  not  the  touch  and  the  vision  of  a  per¬ 
sonal  God?  Imagine  the  doors  closed,  and  the  judg¬ 
ment  set. 

1.  Conscience  is  that  which  perceives  and  feels 
rightness  and  oughtness  in  moral  motives,  —  that  is, 
in  choices  and  intentions. 

2.  The  word  motive  has  three  meanings, — allure¬ 
ment,  appetite,  intention. 

3.  When  Csesar  crossed  the  Rubicon,  his  allure¬ 
ment,  or  objective  natural  motive,  was  the  political 
prize  of  supreme  power  in  the  Roman  Empire. 

That  was  wholly  outside  of  himself.  He  was  not 
responsible  for  its  existence.  Nevertheless  it  was  a 
motive  to  him,  in  the  sense  of  allurement. 

4.  His  appetite,  or  subjective  natural  motive,  was 


182 


CONSCIENCE. 


made  up  of  his  constitutional  endowments,  including 
ambition  and  love  of  power. 

He  did  not  create  these.  They  were  wholly  out¬ 
side  the  range  of  his  choice. 

5.  In  neither  of  these  senses  of  the  word  motives 
does  conscience  judge  them ;  and  in  neither  of  these 
senses  are  we  responsible  for  them. 

6.  But  Caesar’s  intention  in  crossing  the  Rubicon 
was  determined  by  himself :  he  put  forth  his  own 
choice ;  his  preferences  or  moral  motives  were  wholly 
his  own  ;  and  were,  as  he  was  pleased  to  make  them, 
either  honorable  or  dishonorable,  good  or  bad. 

7.  In  this  sense  of  the  word  motives  we  are  respon¬ 
sible  for  them,  and  conscience  does  judge  them. 

8.  Most  mischievous  confusion  of  thought  arises 
from  not  distinguishing  the  three  things  signified  by 
the  word  motives. 

Here  is  a  library,  and  there  a  whiskey-den  or  some 
other  Gehenna  breathing-hole.  I  stand  in  the  middle 
of  the  street  between  them,  and  freely  choose  into 
which  I  will  go.  I  am  a  human  being.  There  is 
whiskey  yonder  ;  that  may  be  an  allurement.  I  did 
not  put  it  there ;  I  am  not  responsible  for  its  intox¬ 
icating  power.  In  one  sense  it  may  be  called  a  mo¬ 
tive  to  me  ;  but  call  it  simply  an  allurement ,  and  you 
will  speak  with  greater  accuracy.  I  have  disordered 
appetites ;  I  have  inherited  bad  blood,  it  may  be,  from 
some  intemperate  ancestor ;  and  I  have  not  taken 
care  of  myself ;  I  have  allowed  nerve-tracks  of  intem¬ 
perance  to  groove  themselves  into  my  physical  organ 
ism,  and  there  is  a  powerful  tendency  on  the  part  of 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


183 


my  diseased  blood  toward  that  place  of  temptation. 
I  am  not  responsible  for  that.  I  may  have  been  for 
the  fostering  of  the  tendency,  or  for  the  undue  inten¬ 
sifying  of  a  natural  appetite  for  excitement.  But  I 
did  not  create  the  constitutional  tendencies  which 
move  me.  If  you  call  these  motives,  I  am  not 
responsible  for  them;  but  outward  allurements  and 
inward  appetites  are  not  the  only  forces  concerned 
here.  Finally,  I  make  up  my  mind  that  I  will 
go  in  there,  and  drink.  It  is  my  intention  to  go 
in  there,  and  drink.  I  put  forth  a  choice.  I  step 
freely  into  that  place  of  temptation.  I  come  out  a 
beast.  I  am  responsible  for  that.  I  did  that  from 
my  own  intention,  and  by  my  own  motive,  choice, 
and  purpose,  in  obedience  to  an  elective  preference 
which  I  put  forth.  Here  is  motive,  in  the  sense  not 
of  allurement ,  or  appetite ,  but  in  that  of  intention ; 
and  this  is  what  conscience  judges.  Intentions  are 
the  zenith  of  the  human  inner  sky ;  and  looking  up 
into  their  depths  whoever  uses  the  eyes  of  science 
will  see  a  Throne,  and  the  books  opened,  and  a  judg¬ 
ment  bar.  These  are  incontrovertible  facts  of  human 
nature. 

But  here  is  a  library,  and  there  are  books  in  it.  I 
know  their  value.  They  are  a  motive  to  me,  in  the 
sense  of  allurement,  or  what  the  writers  on  ethics  call 
an  objective  natural  motive.  But  I  did  not  place  the 
books  on  the  shelves ;  I  am  not  at  all  responsible  for 
their  attractive  powers ;  they  are  an  allurement  only. 
Moreover,  I  have  intellectual  curiosity,  or  some  moral 
desire,  it  may  be,  for  study;  and  this  moves  me 


184 


CONSCIENCE. 


toward  the  library ;  but  I  am  not  to  be  praised  for 
that.  Perhaps  I  inherit  it.  I  may  have  intensified 
the  power  of  these  natural  desires ;  but  an  intellec¬ 
tual  and  moral  equipment  belongs  to  me  as  a  human 
being ;  and  as  a  motive  I  am  not  responsible  for  it ; 
aud  conscience  does  not  judge  me  for  its  possession. 
It  is  an  appetite,  or  what  the  books  call  a  subjective 
natural  motive.  But  now  I  make  up  my  mind  to 
go  into  that  library.  That  is  my  act.  I  intend  to  go 
there,  and  I  have  the  good  motive  of  obtaining  in¬ 
formation  to  increase  my  usefulness,  or,  it  may  be,  the 
base  motive  of  acquiring  knowledge  to  enlarge  my 
powers  of  self-display.  I  have  a  motive,  a  secret  in¬ 
tention,  a  purpose,  which  I  alone  am  putting  forth, 
and  for  which  I  alone,  before  conscience,  am  responsi¬ 
ble.  Thus,  in  the  whole  range  of  his  free  intentions, 
a  man  finds  conscience  always  standing  before  him, 
with  the  doors  closed,  and  the  skies  opened,  and  the 
judgment  set. 

You  know  that  these  are  facts  ;  and,  if  you  please, 
they  are  just  as  important  facts  as  any  thing  about 
the  Ichthyosaurus  or  the  Plesiosaurus.  They  are 
as  important  as  speculations  about  any  object  in 
the  Zoological  Museums  in  Cambridge  yonder ;  they 
are  as  important  as  any  thing  we  touch  with  the 
microscope  or  scalpel ;  and,  indeed,  quite  measure- 
lessly  more  so.  Let  us  distinguish  the  three  classes 
of  motives,  or  allurements,  appetites,  and  intentions ; 
and  be  unalterably  sure  that,  however  much  force 
the  first  and  second  may  have,  we  are  responsible 
for  the  third. 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


185 


A  distinguished  theological  teacher  once  illustrated 
the  difference  of  the  three  kinds  of  motives  by  the 
case  of  a  boy  climbing  an  apple-tree  to  steal  apples. 
The  apples  are  the  objective  natural  motive ;  the 
boy’s  appetite  is  the  subjective  natural  motive ;  his 
intention  is  his  moral  motive.  The  boy  climbs  the 
tree  to  get  the  apples,  and  there  is  his  exterior  natu¬ 
ral  motive.  He  climbs  the  tree  because  he  is  hungry, 
and  there  is  his  interior  natural  motive.  He  climbs 
the  tree  because  he  has  a  mind  to,  and  that  is  the 
motive  for  which  he  is  responsible.  [Applause.] 

A  shallow,  and  often  vulgar,  semi-infidel  paper  in 
Boston  has  lately  discovered  that  motives  and  inten¬ 
tions  are  not  the  same,  and  that  we  are  not  responsible 
for  our  motives.  Certain  haughty  critics  of  this  lec¬ 
tureship,  who  assert  that  we  are  never  responsible  for 
our  motives,  will  do  well  to  look  at  any  common 
vocabulary  of  philosophy,  such  as  Flemming’s  or 
Krauth’s,  under  the  word  Motive,  and  they  will  find 
that  the  distinctions  on  which  I  have  now  insisted 
are  not  invented  for  the  occasion,  but  are  as  old  as 
Plato. 

But  so  closely  does  the  topic  of  Conscience  touch 
that  of  the  Will,  that  we  need  yet  further  definitions. 
We  are  now  on  contested  ground,  where  ambiguity 
of  phraseology  has  been  an  exhaustless  source  of 
debate. 

6.  Will  is  the  power  of  putting  forth  choice,  or 
imperative  volition. 

10.  Choice  is  agreeable  elective  preference.  It  is 
preceded  by  a  comparison  of  at  least  two  objects, 


188 


CONSCIENCE. 


and  by  an  excitement  of  the  sensibilities  in  relation 
to  the  objects  compared.  It  may  be  followed  by  acts 
tending  to  gratify  the  choice.  All  choice  implies 
ratherness.  Therefore  the  choice  of  an  object  in¬ 
volves  the  refusal  of  its  opposite. 

Choice  cannot  be  defined.  You  cannot  define  the 
word  white.  You  can  give  a  nominal  definition  of 
it,  but  not  a  real  one ;  and  so  of  choice  we  can  give  no 
real,  but  only  a  nominal  definition.  However,  let 
choice  be  called  agreeable  elective  preference.  It  is 
important  to  put  into  the  idea  of  choice  this  trait  of 
agreeableness,  for  mere  resolution  is  not  choice.  The 
love  which  the  nature  of  things  and  the  Scriptures 
command  us  to  have  for  virtue  is  choice ;  that  is, 
we  are  so  to  choose  it  as  to  be  happy  in  doing  so ;  we 
are  to  make  duty  a  delight.  We  are  to  choose  good, 
and  to  be  glad  in  it.  No  man  chooses  good  unless  he 
likes  to  choose  it.  Every  choice  implies  free  rather¬ 
ness.  That  act  of  the  will  which  we  call  elective 
preference  is  always  agreeable.  Forced  preference 
is  a  phrase  involving  self-contradiction.  Agreeable 
elective  preference,  that  and  nothing  less,  is  choice. 
This  meaning  harmonizes  well  with  all  the  proverbs 
of  the  nations.  “  What  a  man  loves,  he  is.”  Show 
me  what  a  man  chooses,  and  I  wiil  show  you  what 
he  likes  most,  and  what  he  is  most  like. 

(1)  Our  sense  of  what  ought  to  be,  invariably 
requires  us  to  choose  what  conscience  commands. 

(2)  To  choose  is  to  love. 

(3)  Since,  therefore,  there  is  a  personal  God  in  con¬ 
science,  to  follow  the  still  small  voice  is  not  only  to 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


181 


believe  that  God  is  a  Spirit,  and  that  he  touches  us, 
but  to  be  glad  that  he  is  and  does  so. 

These  three  propositions  are  the  unassailable  foun¬ 
dations  of  the  religion  of  science. 

As  to  the  truth  that  all  virtue  consists  in  choice, 
New  England  philosophy  stands  in  contrast  with 
European.  Very  often,  by  choice,  European  philoso¬ 
phers  mean  volition,  resolution ;  and  when  New  Eng¬ 
land  philosophy,  represented  by  Transcendentalism 
as  well  as  by  Jonathan  Edwards,  asserts  that  all  vir¬ 
tue  consists  in  choice,  it  was  once  not  always  under¬ 
stood  in  Scotland,  and  still  less  often  in  England  and 
in  Germany,  that  by  choice  Edwards  meant  agreea¬ 
ble  elective  preference  of  virtue.  We  say  that  all 
sin  is  in  choice,  when  we  mean  by  that  word  an  agree¬ 
able  elective  preference.  We  choose  darkness  rather 
than  light  only  when  we  love  it  more.  We  choose  light 
rather  than  darkness  only  when  we  love  the  latter 
the  less.  The  innermost  love  of  the  soul  is  indicated 
by  its  elective  agreeable  preference. 

11.  Intention  may  be  defined  as  a  resolved  choice. 
When  the  fixed  plan  of  executing  that  choice  is 
entertained  by  the  mind,  the  intention  is  called  a 
purpose. 

12.  Motives ,  defined  as  intentions ,  choices ,  and  pur¬ 
poses,  are  perceived  by  conscience  to  be  right  or  wrong. 

Accurate  observation  of  our  mental  and  moral  ex¬ 
perience  demonstrates  that  we  have  within  us  a  fac¬ 
ulty  which  points  out  the  difference  between  right  and 
wrong,  in  our  intentions  and  choices,  thus  defined,  as 
:he  faculty  of  physical  taste  points  out  the  difference 


188 


CONSCIENCE. 


between  tlie  sweet  and  the  bitter.  We  have,  there¬ 
fore,  in  human  nature  itself  one  sure  support  for 
a  religion  that  will  bear  the  examination  of  the 
ages.  I  am  appealing  to  proof-texts  from  the  oldest 
Scriptures,  that  is,  the  nature  of  things.  Some 
silly  person  wrote  the  other  day  from  Cambridge, 
England,  that  in  this  lectureship  it  is  not  thought 
worth  while  to  cite  the  Bible,  and  that  the  attempt 
is  merely  to  build  up  a  religion  without  any  refer¬ 
ence  to  the  Scriptures.  The  castle  of  the  Scrip¬ 
tures  stands  here,  and  there  are  defenders  in  it. 
After  nineteen  centuries  of  victorious  repulsion  of 
assaults,  it  needs  no  assistance  from  me.  But 
haughty  Science  comes  forward,  with  other  weapons ; 
and  I  have  been  placed  here  by  friends  of  free  dis¬ 
cussion,  not  to  instruct  them  in  any  thing  Biblical  or 
scientific  that  they  do  not  know,  but  to  go  down 
into  the  field  before  the  castle,  and  with  the  very 
weapons  of  these  arrogant  foes  to  meet  them  in 
their  own  redoubts.  [Applause.]  When  religious 
science,  with  only  the  equipment  that  natural  science 
can  give  it,  comes  into  the  open  field,  foregoing  the 
aid  to  be  derived  from  its  own  fortress,  and  willing 
to  meet  all  objections  on  the  ground  of  bare  Rea¬ 
son,  it  is  merely  a  begging  of  the  entire  question  to 
say  that  the  Bible  has  been  given  up.  On  Sundays 
I  go  into  that  fortress,  if  you  please.  [Applause.] 

It  will  not  now  seem  other  than  scientific  to  assert, 
in  view  of  the  propositions  already  put  before  you, 
that :  — 

18.  All  sin  or  holiness  consists,  not  in  volition,  but 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


189 


in  elective  preference,  choices,  intentions,  moral 
motives. 

External  acts  possess  expediency  or  inexpediency, 
harmfulness  or  mischievousness ;  and  their  character 
in  these  respects  I  must  ascertain  by  a  combined 
use  of  judgment  and  conscience.  I  do  not  know  by 
conscience  whether  you  are  a  good  man,  or  a  bad 
man ;  I  do  not  know  by  conscience  whether  I  ought 
to  defend  the  President’s  Southern  policy  or  not.  It 
is  a  question  of  judgment,  what  I  ought  to  do  con¬ 
cerning  the  South.  I  must  gather  all  the  facts;  I 
must  look  at  human  experience ;  I  must  take  the 
entire  light  I  have,  or  can  get ;  and  then,  in  the 
action  I  choose,  conscience  will  tell  me  whether  my 
intentions  are  good  or  bad ;  that  is,  whether  I  am 
willing  to  follow  all  the  illumination  I  possess  or  can 
obtain,  or  not.  I  know  what  my  motives  are  in  my 
political  action ;  I  know  what  I  intend  to  effect ;  and 
you  all  judge  men  by  their  intentions  in  the  last 
resort. 

Conscience  guarantees  only  good  intentions.  Are 
they  enough?  If  conscience,  when  truly  followed, 
does  not  give  us  soundness  of  judgment,  really  it  is 
not  a  very  important  faculty,  you  say.  But  let  us 
notice  what  can  be  proved  beyond  a  doubt ;  namely, 
that  a  man  who  follows  conscience  we  are  able  to 
respect,  and  that  we  are  not  able  to  respect  a  man 
who  does  not  follow  it.  It  is  a  stern  fact  that  uncon- 
scientious  intentions  no  human  being  is  able  to  re¬ 
spect.  We  cannot  help  calling  a  man  respectable 
who  is  possessed  of  good  intentions ;  nor  can  we  help 


190 


CONSCIENCE. 


finding  him  not  respectable  who  is  not  possessed  of 
them.  There  is  Stonewall  Jackson,  and  here  is  John 
Brown.  Let  us  suppose  that  Stonewall  Jackson 
believes  that  John  Brown  is  utterly  honest;  and 
let  us  assume  that  John  Brown  believes  the  same 
of  Jackson.  Brown’s  action  appears  to  Jackson  to 
be  very  mischievous,  and  Jackson’s  action  appears 
to  Brown  to  be  equally  so.  In  fact,  they  are  cross¬ 
ing  bayonets  in  a  civil  war;  but  they  are  both 
men  of  prayer,  men  of  confirmed  religious  habits, 
and- we  have  reason  to  believe  that  they  are  endeav¬ 
oring  to  be  conscientious.  I  do  not  believe  Stone¬ 
wall  J ackson  followed  all  the  light  he  had ;  nor  do  I 
believe  John  Brown  did.  But  suppose  that  Jackson 
did  follow  all  the  light  he  had,  or  could  get,  and  sup¬ 
pose  that  John  Brown  did,  and  that  each  is  convinced 
of  this  fact  as  to  the  other :  then,  although  they  are 
ready  in  the  settlement  of  practical  measures  to 
cross  bayonets,  you  cannot  help  their  coming  to¬ 
gether  when  the  measures  are  settled,  and  shaking 
hands  with  each  other  as  respectable  men.  You 
know  that  to  be  the  fact.  External  acts  differ  to 
the  degree  of  crossing  bayonets;  but,  as  each  does 
the  best  he  knows  how,  each  respects  the  other,  and 
absolutely  cannot  help  doing  so.  This  is  a  singular 
fact  in  the  soul ;  but  this  is  the  way  we  are  made. 
We  find  that  Governor  Wise,  when  he  looked  into 
the  eyes  of  John  Brown,  and  saw  honesty  there,  and 
that  others  who  noticed  his  mood  in  his  last  hours, 
were  thrown  into  a  kind  of  awe  by  that  border 
warrior.  He  meant  right;  and  respect  for  that 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE  ? 


191 


man’s  soul  is  not  confined  to  the  circle  of  the  moun¬ 
tains  between  which  he  lies  in  my  native  county  in 
Northern  New  York.  I  have  heard  the  summer  wind 
sighing  over  the  grave  of  John  Brown,  and  have 
stood  there  and  gazed  upon  Mount  Marcy  and 
Whiteface  and  Lake  Placid ;  but  because  I  believed 
that  this  man’s  conscience  was  a  Lake  Placid,  and 
his  resolution  to  follow  it  firm  as  Marcy,  firm  as 
Whiteface,  firm  as  any  of  those  gigantic  peaks  in 
my  native  Switzerland,  I  felt  sure  that  his  soul  was 
marching  on  [applause],  and  that  when  his  spirit 
smote  slavery,  the  tree  after  that  was  timber.  [Ap¬ 
plause.]  It  did  not  fall  at  once,  but  it  was  no  longer 
alive. 

There  was  a  persecutor  of  the  early  Church  who 
verily  thought  he  ought  to  do  many  things  against 
Christianity.  He  himself  teaches  us  that  he  needed 
pardon,  but  that  mercy  was  shown  him  because  of 
his  ignorance.  Who  will  say  that  he  did  not  sup¬ 
press  light?  Not  I.  He  did  immense  mischief  while 
his  judgment  was  not  corrected;  and  if  he  suppressed 
light,  or  tutored  it,  his  choices  were  not  good.  This 
is  most  dangerous  ground.  I  know  on  what  treach¬ 
erous  soil  I  tread,  unless  definitions  are  kept  in  view. 
Choice  means  love ;  conscientiousness  is  glad  self¬ 
surrender  to  a  personal  God  in  conscience,  or  to  what 
ought  to  be  in  motives.  Let  us  take  the  precaution 
of  using  pictures  as  well  as  metaphysical  phrases. 
There  is  a  point  in  the  bounding,  resonant  Andros¬ 
coggin  at  which  is  an  island,  and  on  it  lives  a  hermit. 
Twenty  savages  are  sailing  down  in  the  midnight  to 


192 


CONSCIENCE. 


surprise  him  and  put  him  to  death.  A  Maine  legend 
says  that  he  puts  a  light  below  the  deadly  Lewiston 
waterfalls  that  lie  just  beyond  his  island.  The  In¬ 
dians  think  the  torch  is  in  his  hut ;  row  toward  it  ; 
and  all  of  them  make  a  sudden,  dizzy,  unexpected 
plunge  to  death.  The  Indians  were  in  one  sense 
right;  they  wanted  to  land  where  the  light  was;  but 
the  light  was  below  the  falls,  and  not  above.  It  is 
tolerably  important  to  know  where  the  beacon  is, 
whether  below  or  above  the  cataract. 

Rothe  well  says  that  the  supreme  sin  is  the  sup¬ 
pression  of  light,  or  the  attempt  to  deceive  the 
cognitive  faculty. 

Conscience  is  your  magnetic  needle.  Reason  is 
your  chart.  But  I  would  rather  have  a  crew  willing 
to  follow,  the  indications  of  the  needle,  and  giving 
themselves  no  great  trouble  as  to  the  chart,  than  a 
crew  that  had  ever  so  good  a  chart  and  no  needle  at 
all.  Which  is  more  important  in  the  high  seas  of 
passion,  the  needle  Conscience  or  the  chart  Reason  ? 
We  know  it  was  the  discovery  of  the  physical  needle 
that  made  navigation  possible  on  the  physical  seas ; 
and  loyalty  to  the  spiritual  magnetic  needle  alone 
makes  navigation  safe  on  the  spiritual  seas.  When  we 
find  a  needle  in  man  through  which  flow  magnetic 
currents  and  courses  of  influence  that  roll  around 
the  whole  globe  and  fill  the  universe,  causing  every 
orb  to  balance  with  upright  pole,  we  know  there  is 
in  the  needle  something  that  is  in  it  but  not  of  it  ; 
and  we  may  well  stand  in  awe  of  it,  and  refuse  to 
tutor  it.  Show  me  a  crew  without  a  chart,  but  will- 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE? 


193 


ing  to  follow  the  needle,  and  I  will  show  you  safe 
navigators;  but  show  me  a  crew  with  a  chart  who 
will  not  look  at  the  needle,  and  I  will  show  you  nav¬ 
igators  near  wreck.  Conscience  requires  every  man 
to  mean  w^ell,  and  to  do  his  best.  It  requires  us  to 
follow  not  only  all  the  light  we  have,  but  all  we  can 
obtain,  and  to  do  so  gladly.  Give  me  a  Lincoln,  and 
I  will  trust  a  nation’s  welfare  to  him,  for  the  judg¬ 
ment  of  the  leader  will  grow  right  by  following  all 
the  illumination  he  possesses.  Give  me  a  Lord 
Bacon,  with  never  so'  wide  windows  of  merely  intel¬ 
lectual  illumination,  and  no  purpose  of  doing  the 
best  he  knows  how,  and  I  dare  not  trust  him  where 
I  would  trust  a  Lincoln  of  far  inferior  intellectual 
powers.  You  know  that  it  is  a  right  heart  that,  in 
the  end,  makes  a  safe  head ;  and  the  ancients  used 
to  say  that  the  punishment  of  a  knave  is  that  he  loses 
good  judgment.  [Applause.] 

14.  John  Stuart  Mill,  although  a  determined  oppo¬ 
nent  of  the  intuitional  school  in  philosophy,  admits 
that  at  least  one  of  our  perceptions,  namely,  that  a 
thing  cannot  both  exist  and  not  exist  at  the  same 
time  and  in  the  same  sense,  is  “  primordial,”  and  not 
the  result  of  experience. 

The  assumption  of  the  associational  school  in  phi¬ 
losophy  is  that  all  axioms  are  merely  the  result  of 
experience,  and  might  have  been  different  if  we  had 
been  boxed  about  differently  in  our  contact  with  life. 
It  has  been  taught  that  there  may  be  worlds  where 
two  and  two  do  not  make  four,  and  where  the  whole 
is  not  greater  than  a  part.  But  John  Stuart  Mill, 


194 


CONSCIENCE. 


who  is  the  foremost  Coryphseus  in  the  associational 
school  of  metaphysics,  admits  that  our  incapacity  of 
conceiving  the  same  thing  as  existing  and  not  exist¬ 
ing  “  may  be  primordial.  All  inconceivabilities  may 
be  reduced  to  inseparable  association  combined  with 
the  original  inconceivability  of  a  direct  contradic¬ 
tion.”  (Mill,  Examination  of  Sir  William  Hamil¬ 
ton's  Philosophy ,  vol.  i.  chap.  6.)  This  is  a  far- 
reaching  concession.  Here  is  a  square  ;  it  cannot  be 
a  circle.  Here  is  a  circle;  it  cannot  be  a  square. 
At  one  and  the  same  time  one  and  the  same  object 
cannot  be  black  and  white.  Mill  says  this  percep¬ 
tion  is  primordial.  It  does  not  arise  from  experi¬ 
ence  ;  a  thing  must  exist  or  not  exist ;  and  the  prop¬ 
osition  that  a  thing  can  exist  and  not  exist  at  the 
same  time  and  in  the  same  sense,  Mill  says  is  per¬ 
ceived  to  be  true  by  a  primordial  peculiarity  of  the 
mind.  If  any  one  of  Kant’s  or  Hamilton’s  unsuc¬ 
cessful  critics  is  dissatisfied  with  the  use  of  the  word 
intuitive,  I  will  be  satisfied  with  the  use  of  Mill’s 
word,  primordial. 

15.  If  we  are  so  made  that  the  distinction  between 
a  whole  and  a  part  is  primordial,  or  perceived  by  a 
power  which  we  possess  antecedent  to  all  experience, 
it  may  be  proved  that  conscience,  within  the  sphere 
of  motives  or  intentions,  is  infallible. 

16.  To  follow  conscience  is  to  suppress  no  light, 
that  is,  to  follow  the  whole  and  not  a  part  of  our 
light. 

17.  Precisely  this  primordial  or  intuitive  knowl¬ 
edge,  therefore,  is  that  which  is  involved  in  the 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE  ? 


195 


direct  vision  conscience  has  of  the  moral  character 
of  motives. 

18.  Every  man  does  know  infallibly  whether  he 
means  to  do  the  best  he  knows  how,  or  not,  in  any 
deliberate  choice.  By  a  primordial  faculty  not  de¬ 
rived  from  experience,  he  knows  whether  the  pur- 
£>ose  or  intention  of  following  all  the  light  he  has 
exists  or  does  not  exist  in  his  mind. 

Called  upon  to  choose  what  I  will  do,  I  have  a 
certain  amount  of  light.  The  interior  of  my  soul  is 
like  the  interior  of  this  Temple ;  and  now  I  am  to 
decide  whether  I  will  act  according  to  all  my  illumi¬ 
nation  candidly  or  not.  I  know  whether  I  turn 
away  from  the  light  or  not.  I  know  whether  I  look 
on  the  whole  or  on  a  part  only  of  this  illumination. 
Mill  says  that  our  direct  perception  of  the  difference 
between  a  whole  and  a  part  is  primordial.  Well,  I 
affirm  that  if  it  is  primordial  in  physical  things,  it  is 
primordial  in  spiritual  things.  I  have  illumination, 
and  I  know  whether  I  suppress  a  part  of  it.  I  know 
whether  the  whole  is  taken  as  my  guide,  or  whether 
I  turn  away  from  some  section  of  the  radiance.  The 
distinction  between  the  whole  and  a  part  is  primordi- 
ally  perceived  in  the  field  of  mental  vision  as  certain¬ 
ly  as  it  is  in  the  field  of  physical  vision.  It  is  just 
as  infallibly  perceived  there  as  here.  The  perception 
in  both  cases  is  a  direct  vision  of  self-evident  truth. 

There  is  an  ancient  Book  that  speaks  of  the  mis¬ 
chief  of  the  suppression  of  light.  There  is  a  Vol¬ 
ume  which  says  that  “  this  is  the  condemnation,  that 
ight  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men  love  darkness 


196 


CONSCIENCE. 


rather  than  light.”  All  this  is  said  in  connection 
with  the  most  subtle  doctrines  concerning  “  the 
Light  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the 
world.”  I  find,  therefore,  that  this  general  view  of 
conscience,  as  something  which  always  pronounces  it 
right  to  follow  all  the  radiance  we  have,  and  wrong 
to  suppress  light,  coincides  marvellously  with  the 
profoundest  thought  of  Christianity,  that  whoever 
tutors  “the  Light  that  lighteth  every  man  that  com¬ 
eth  into  the  world  ”  is  acting  against  Light  which 
“  in  the  beginning  was  with  God,  and  was  God.” 

19.  Conscience  invariably  decides  that  to  suppress 
light  is  wTrong,  and  that  to  follow  all  the  light  we 
have  or  can  obtain,  and  to  do  so  without  the  slightest 
tutoring  of  the  radiance,  is  right. 

20.  The  perception  of  the  difference  between 
meaning  right  and  meaning  wrong  in  this  sense  is 
primordial,  or  intuitive ;  and  the  difference  exhibits 
the  three  traits  of  all  intuitive  truth,  —  self-evidence, 
necessity,  and  universality. 

If  the  proposition  that  a  whole  is  greater  than  a 
part  is  self-evident,  necessary,  universally  believed  as 
soon  as  men  understand  the  terms,  so  the  distinction 
between  following  the  whole  or  a  part  of  our  light 
is  self-evident,  necessary,  and  universally  admitted  as 
soon  as  men  understand  the  terms.  Therefore,  if 
you  use  the  word  primordial  as  to  the  small  things 
of  physical  vision,  I  will  use  it  as  to  the  great  things 
of  spiritual  vision.  If  you  use  the  word  necessary 
as  to  self-evident  truth  here,  I  will  use  it  as  to  self- 
evident  there.  If,  in  the  same  connection,  you  use 


IS  CONSCIENCE  INFALLIBLE  ? 


197 


the  word  infallible  here,  I  will  rise  into  the  upper 
heaven,  and  use  the  word  infallible  there. 

21.  With  equal  clearness  conscience  always  points 
out  that  we  ought  to  follow  good  motives,  and  not 
follow  bad  as  here  defined. 

22.  Within  the  field  of  intentions  or  the  moral 
motives,  therefore,  conscience  has  the  infallibility 
which  belongs  to  the  perception  of  self-evident 
truths,  and  in  Kant’s  language  “  an  erring  conscience 
is  a  chimera.” 

There  are  men  who  do  not  know  that  when  they 
tutor  the  magnetic  needle  they  are  tutoring  currents 
that  enswathe  the  globe  and  all  worlds.  There  are 
men  who  do  not  know  that  when  they  tutor  con¬ 
science  they  are  tutoring  magnetisms  which  pervade 
both  the  universe  of  souls  and  its  Author.  Beware 
how  you  put  the  finger  of  special  pleading  on  the 
quivering  needle  of  conscience,  and  forbid  it  to  go 
north,  south,  east,  or  west;  beware  of  failing  to 
balance  it  on  a  hair’s  point ;  for  whoever  tutors  that 
primordial,  necessary,  universal,  infallible  perception, 
tutors  a  Personal  God.  [Applause.] 


J 


V 

■ 


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<  «!  . 


■  .  . 

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VIIT. 

CONSCIENCE  AS  THE  FOUNDATION  OF  THE 
BELIGION  OF  SCIENCE. 

THE  EIGHTY-EIGHTH  LECTURE  IN  THE  BOSTON  MONDAY 
LECTURESHIP,  DELIVERED  IN  TREMONT  TEMPLE, 

NOV.  19. 


Handle  so,  dass  die  Maxime  deines  Willens  jederzeit  zugleich  als 
Princip  einer  allgemeinen  Gesetzgebung  gelten  konne. 

Kant:  Prak.  Vernunft,  vii 

The  idea  of  a  Supreme  Being,  infinite  in  power,  goodness,  and 
wisdom,  whose  workmanship  we  are,  and  upon  whom  we  depend, 
and  the  idea  of  ourselves,  as  understanding  rational  beings,  being 
such  as  are  clear  in  us,  would,  I  suppose,  if  duly  considered  and 
pursued,  afford  such  foundations  of  our  duty  and  rules  of  action  as 
might  place  morality  among  the  sciences  capable  of  demonstration, 
wherein,  I  doubt  not,  but  from  self-evident  propositions,  by  neces¬ 
sary  consequences  as  incontestable  as  those  in  mathematics,  the 
measures  of  right  and  wrong  might  be  made  out. 

TjOCKk:  Human  Understanding. 


i 


VIII. 


CONSCIENCE  AS  THE  FOUNDATION  OF 
THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE. 

PRELUDE  ON  CURRENT  EVENTS. 

The  Roman  pagan  Epictetus  wrote :  “  Dare  to 
look  up  to  God,  and  say,  Deal  with  me  in  the  future 
as  thou  wilt ;  I  am  of  the  same  mind  as  thou  art ;  I 
am  thine ;  I  refuse  nothing  that  pleases  thee ;  lead 
me  where  thou  wilt;  clothe  me  in  any  dress  thou 
choosest.”  (Epictetus,  book  ii.,  chap,  xvi.)  Modern 
civilization  is  being  clothed  in  a  robe  of  great  cities. 
It  ought,  if  it  has  the  wisdom  of  Epictetus,  to  look 
up  and  say  to  Almighty  Providence,  “  Clothe  me  as 
thou  pleasest ;  I  am  of  the  same  mind  as  thou  art.” 
Perishing  and  dangerous  classes  are  accumulating  in 
cities;  and  in  cities,  therefore,  the  problem  of  the 
right  management  of  these  classes  is  to  be  solved.  It 
appears  to  be  the  purpose  of  Providence,  to  gather 
men  more  and  more  into  cities,  and  to  save  them 
there.  City  philanthropic  and  religious  effort  for  the 
masses  of  plain  and  poor  men  in  cities  is  demanded, 
and  will  certainly  be  honored  of  God.  So  far  as  my 

knowledge  extends,  the  most  important  advances  that 

201 


202 


CONSCIENCE. 


have  been  made  in  America  in  reaching  the  un¬ 
churched  masses  in  large  towns,  have  been  effected 
through  the  Young  Men’s  Christian  Associations  and 
city  tabernacles.  A  luxurious  age  naturally  holds 
the  opinion  that  the  Church  should  be  a  place  for  the 
select,  as  well  as  the  elect.  But  the  opinion  of  Prov¬ 
idence  concerning  modern  times  appears  to  be  that 
the  telephone  and  the  railway  and  the  telegraph,  at 
their  points  of  intersection,  are  to  draw  average  men 
together  in  suffocated  crowds.  Already  in  the 
United  States  we  have  one-fifth  of  our  population  in 
cities,  and  we  had  but  one  twenty-fifth  in  great 
towns  in  1800. 

Five  things  appear  to  me  to  be  incontrovertible  :  — 

1.  That  the  American  Church,  as  organized  under 
the  voluntary  system,  is  not  reaching  the  unchurched 
masses  in  our  large  cities  with  due  effectiveness.  I 
do  not  deny  that  the  churches  reach  the  masses; 
but  they  are  not  so  reaching  them  as  to  make  the 
perishing  and  dangerous  populations  safe  under 
American  suffrage,  under  our  loose  government  by 
careless  elections,  under  our  elective  judiciary,  and 
with  the  rising  importance  of  the  questions  between 
labor  and  capital. 

2.  That  the  unchurched  masses,  or  unseated  par¬ 
ishioners  in  great  towns,  have  often  in  many  cities  of 
Great  Britain  and  the  United  States  been  reached 
effectively  when  addressed  earnestly  in  tabernacles 
and  in  free  halls  for  evangelistic  services,  by  Young 
Men’s  Christian  Associations,  or  by  the  union  of 
churches ;  and  that  a  large  floating  population  in  our 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  203 


cities  is  much  more  likely  to  be  brought  within  hear¬ 
ing  of  religious  truths  in  this  way  than  by  purchased 
pews  of  their  own  in  places  of  worship. 

3.  That,  if  the  American  churches  can  reach  the 
unchurched  masses  of  our  cities,  they  ought  to  do  so ; 
and  that  to  neglect  an  opportunity,  growing  wider 
and  wider  every  year,  for  the  management  of  the 
perishing  and  dangerous  populations  in  a  Christian 
way,  is  a  crime.  We  have  opportunity  open  in  one 
direction.  It  does  not  suit  us,  or  not  all  of  us ;  but 
it  is  the  instrumentality  which  has  thus  far  been  most 
successful ;  and,  until  some  more  fruitful  method  of 
labor  offers  itself,  Providence  seems  to  indicate  that 
tabernacles  have  a  mission. 

4.  That  when  the  masses  who  do  not  attend  the 
churches  have  been  reached  through  tabernacles, 
they  are  more  easily  reached  through  the  regular 
churches. 

5.  That  there  ought,  therefore,  to  be  no  more  ri¬ 
valry  between  the  work  of  Young  Men’s  Christian 
Associations  and  city  tabernacles  conducted  with 
evangelical  and  earnest  leaders,  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  work  of  the  regular  churches  on  the  other,  than 
between  the  fingers  and  the  palm.  [Applause.] 

It  may  be  that  I  venture  something  in  defending 
these  propositions;  but  you  will  not  accuse  me  of 
selfish  motives,  for  I  have  no  church  and  no  deacons 
and  no  tabernacle.  I  am  looking  only  to  the  fact  that 
America  needs  management  in  her  great  cities.  If 
we  can  manage  the  one-fifth  of  her  population  who 
live  in  large  towns,  we  can  take  care  of  the  rest ;  but 


204 


CONSCIENCE. 


if  we  cnnnot  manage  that  perishing  and  dangerous 
part  of  her  population,  the  black  angels  assuredly 

v  will. 

What  has  been  done  in  Boston  ?  Let  us  answer 
that  question  two  years  hence.  Enough  time  has 
elapsed  in  Great  Britain  to  test  the  work  of  the  Amer¬ 
ican  evangelists  there.  I  hold  in  my  hands  an  opin¬ 
ion  of  a  revered  Englishman,  who  has  just  been  in¬ 
structing  Yale  College,  Dr.  Dale,  and  which'  I  shall 
venture  to  read.  It  is  well  known  that  Mr.  Spur¬ 
geon,  who  was  at  first  somewhat  shy  of  indorsing  the 
evangelists’  work  in  Great  Britain,  now  does  so  most 
thoroughly.  He  has  followed  the  good  English  rule, 
and  under  the  test  of  experience  the  work  approves 
itself  to  his  very  experienced  judgment.  And  here 
is  another  judgment,  also  experienced :  — 

“  It  is  with  the  liveliest  satisfaction  and  the  deepest 
gratitude,”  says  Dr.  Dale,  “  that  I  bear  witness  to  the 
reality  and  permanency  of  the  impression  made  on 
our  community  during  the  fortnight  of  Mr.  Moody’s 
stay.  Fourteen  hundred  persons  were  converted,  and 
united  with  the  churches  of  Birmingham ;  six  hun¬ 
dred  others  had  received  religious  impressions,  who 
did  not  then  profess  full  light  and  joy  in  believing. 
Before  Mr.  Moody’s  departure  a  converts’  meeting 
was  held,  to  which  no  one  was  admitted  except  by 
ticket.  Cards  were  distributed  among  the  fourteen 
hundred  present,  and  each  new  convert  was  requested 
to  write  upon  his  card  his  own  name  and  address,  and 
the  name  of  the  church  with  which  he  desired  to 
connect  himself.  Of  these  cards  I  received  a  hum 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  EELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  205 


died  and  twenty.  I  preached  a  converts’  sermon  on 
Acts  i.  15,  last  clause :  4  The  number  of  names 
together  were  about  a  hundred  and  twenty.’  I  was 
unable  to  visit  and  examine  them  personally.  I  ac¬ 
cordingly  distributed  the  cards  among  several  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  church,  and  sent  them  out  to  examine  and 
report.  Many  of  the  letters  which  I  received  in 
response  read  like  romances.  Tales  of  want  and 
woe,  and  struggle  with  temptation,  and  lives  of  sin ! 
The  converts  were  of  various  social  positions,  but  the 
large  majority  were  profane,  drunken,  irreligious,  and 
even  immoral.  Fearing  lest  hesitation  and  delay 
might  arouse  on  their  part  suspicion  of  my  confi¬ 
dence  in  their  sincerity,  I  received  them  into  the 
church  without  the  usual  probation.  Between  a 
hundred  and  twenty  and  a  hundred  and  thirty  were 
thus  received.  I  expected  numerous  defections  among 
these,  owing  to  the  class  of  society  to  which  they  be¬ 
long  and  the  imperfect  examination  upon  which  they 
were  admitted.  Two  years  and  a  half  have  elapsed. 
The  fruits  remain.  I  hear  of  profane  women,  who 
were  the  terror  of  their  neighborhoods,  living  sweet 
and  lovely  lives,  and  of  drunkards  reformed.  I  went 
over  the  entire  list  with  assistance  just  before 
leaving  for  America,  and  it  resulted  from  that  inves¬ 
tigation,  that  not  more  than  eight,  or,  at  the  most, 
nine,  of  the  entire  number,  have  fallen  away.  More¬ 
over,  the  impulse  which  Mr.  Moody’s  visit  gave  to 
our  whole  church  life  still  continues.  It  is  one  of 
the  greatest  disappointments  of  my  visit  to  this  coun¬ 
try,  that  I  have  been  unable  to  meet  a  man  whom  J 


206 


CONSCIENCE. 


learned,  in  the  brief  time  he  was  with  us,  to  love  and 
to  esteem.”  [Applause.] 

This  city  is  not  cold  or  haughty,  except  on  the 
surface.  Boston  desires  safety  in  her  new  enter¬ 
prises,  and  applies  stern  tests,  indeed,  to  all  religious 
proceedings.  Bat  with  the  experience  of  Birming¬ 
ham,  Liverpool,  London,  Edinburgh,  Glasgow,  Phil¬ 
adelphia,  New  York,  and  Chicago,  behind  her,  ought 
not  Boston  to  drop  a  little  of  her  iciness  of  reserve, 
and  see  to  it  that  the  fruits  of  last  winter,  already 
reaped,  are  bound  up,  and  other  laborers  sent  into 
the  harvest,  white,  at  this  hour,  for  the  sickle  ?  [Ap¬ 
plause.] 

Have  we  visited  the  five  thousand  whose  names 
a] id  residences  were  ascertained  and  recorded  at  a 
meeting  of  converts?  I  am  not  given  to  counting 
the  results  of  revivals ;  but  it  is  very  well  known  that 
those  who  have  examined  the  facts  most  elaborately 
assert  in  public  prints,  over  their  own  signatures, 
that  in  the  Tabernacle  meetings  last  winter  at  least 
five  thousand  persons  made  up  their  minds  to  do 
their  duty.  When,  by  other  methods,  not  one  of 
which  do  I  underrate,  have  the  churches  of  Boston 
done  as  much  ?  When  have  you  reached  the  intem¬ 
perate  as  well  as  you  did  last  winter  ?  When,  es¬ 
pecially,  have  you  exhibited  any  such  blessed  activity 
in  personal  visitation  among  the  degraded  ?  It  is  a 
fact  that  the  most  leprous  quarters  of  this  city  were 
visited  by  noble  women,  and  that  again  and  again 
brands  were  snatched  from  the  burning.  It  is  the 
subtle  temptation  of  our  luxurious  civilization,  that 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  207 


we  are  above  such  work,  and  that,  because  we  aie 
above  it,  we  like  to  have  a  theology  preached  which 
never  asserts  that  a  man  can  be  ruined,  and  especially 
not  that  a  woman  can  be.  This  gospel  of  luxury, 
this  unscientific  liberalism,  this  tendency  to  make 
religion  genial,  whether  it  is  true  to  the  nature  of 
things  or  not,  is  a  temptation  which  cannot  be  con¬ 
quered  unless  we  go  down  face  to  face  with  the  sci¬ 
entific  method  to  the  edges  of  the  Korah’s  pits  where 
men  are  swallowed  up  alive.  When  the  Church  has 
due  practical  activity,  she  will  have,  because  she  will 
be  obliged  to  have,  a  scientific  theology,  tender  as 
the  dew,  clear  as  the  sunbeam,  serious  as  the  light¬ 
ning.  Christianity  once  in  action  can  never  be  con¬ 
tent  with  limp  and  lavender  liberalism ;  an  unaggress- 
ive  indifference  to  the  fact  that  men  can  be  ruined ; 
or  a  religion  that  believes  in  plush  or  velvet,  and  the 
genial,  rather  than  in  usefulness,  and  the  scienti¬ 
fically  true. 

Surely  the  activity  of  the  churches  here  last  win¬ 
ter  was  sufficient  to  repay  them  for  all  they  did.  If 
no  good  effects  had  come  from  it  except  the  quicken¬ 
ing  of  practical  Christian  work,  that  alone  would 
have  been  worth  all  the  effort  put  forth.  What  a 
good  thing  it  was  to  see  all  denominations  united ! 
Some,  from  whom  we  could  have  expected  only  si¬ 
lence,  were  on  our  side.  When  the  churches  are 
accused  of  lacking  union,  let  the  union  efforts  made 
in  our  cities  and  in  the  tabernacles  repel  the  charge. 

There  is  a  Lord’s  table  in  the  Church ;  and,  when 
invitations  to  it  are  given,  all  denominations,  or  very 


208 


CONSCIENCE. 


nearly  all,  are  brought  together.  [Applause.]  To 
me,  the  Church  is  best  represented  by  the  union 
signified  by  that  common  invitation.  In  the  alcoves 
of  a  great  library,  sometimes  we  have  a  recess  filled 
with  books  on  Greece ;  then  another  with  books  on 
Rome ;  but  all  the  recesses  open  into  one  hall.  So 
the  different  denominations  are  but  recesses  in  one 
vast  temple ;  they  all  open  out  into  one  great  palace 
floor,  up  and  down  which,  in  stern  times  when  we 
ready  do  our  duty  for  the  perishing  and  dangerous, 
our  Lord  walks,  arm  in  arm,  not  with  the  Baptist,  not 
with  the  Presbyterian,  not  with  the  Methodist,  not 
with  the  Congregationalist,  not  with  the  Episcopalian, 
but  with  the  whole  Church,  which  is  his  living  gar¬ 
ment.  [Applause.] 

You  say  that  the  work  done  in  tabernacles  and 
Young  Men’s  Christian  Associations  is  often  superfi¬ 
cial.  Will  you  see  to  it  that  men  are  invited  into 
activity  in  these  places  who  have  proper  equipments? 
Some  men  say  the  wrong  thing  technically,  in  their 
expression  of  religious  truth,  and  yet  make  the  right 
impression;  and  some  men  say  precisely  the  right 
thing, — very  martinets  of  language  in  theology, — 
and  make  a  wrong  impression.  [Applause.]  Is  it  no,c 
a  matter  of  amazement,  when  five  thousand  persons 
here  in  Boston  have  been  brought  to  a  resolution 
to  do  their  duty,  and  a  great  part  of  them  have 
united  with  the  church,  that  we  should  hear  from  the 
collegiate  city  of  New  Haven  very  little  response, 
except  the  statement  that  Mr.  Moody’s  views  ar^  not 
sound  on  the  matter  of  the  Second  Advene?  I  had 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  2U9 


known  Mr.  Moody  two  years  before  I  knew  what 
his  views  on  the  Second  Advent  were ;  and,  if  his 
great  usefulness  continues,  I  shall  know  him  twenty 
years  longer  before  I  care.  Provided  his  devout 
effort  is  blessed  of  God,  as  it  has  been ;  provided 
he  is  endowed  from  on  high  with  the  capacity  to 
reach,  through  his  tenderness  of  heart,  through  his 
marvellous  practical  sagacity,  and  through  the  activity 
that  almost  made  him  an  invalid  here  in  Boston, 
working  until  midnight,  and  carrying  his  labor 
through  with  a  zeal  that  no  man  could  understand 
who  did  not  help  in  it :  provided  he  continues  labor 
of  that  sort,  I,  for  one,  shall  consider  it  an  honor  to 
Boston  if  she  can  help  him  a  little,  and  not  criticise 
him  at  all.  [Applause.]  He  is  abundantly  able  to 
do  without  the  appreciation  of  this  city,  where,  after 
all,  he  has  been  appreciated  well ;  and  where  his 
work,  I  think,  has  been  as  remarkable  as  in  any  other 
city  he  ever  visited. 

Twice  the  Tabernacle  has  been  open  this  season, 
and  twice  it  has  been  well  filled.  Hundreds  go  there 
who  do  not  go  to  the  regular  churches.  The  un¬ 
churched  masses  are  to  be  criticised  for  not  being 
willing  to  go  to  established  places  of  worship.  Every 
church  in  America  is  the  result  of  the  voluntary  sys¬ 
tem.  We  shall  have,  no  doubt,  luxurious  churches 
in  our  luxurious  age  and  time ;  but  there  will  be  and 
there  are  churches  for  the  average  laborer ;  churches 
glad  to  see  anybody  who  is  decently  clad,  and  to  give 
a  good  seat  to  the  man  who  may  be  hungry  and  pos¬ 
sibly  not  quite  cleanly.  I  believe  that  nine  out  of 


210 


CONSCIENCE. 


ten  of  our  churches  are  willing  to  see  all  ranks  of 
society  in  God’s  house,  and  to  measure  them  there 
only  by  the  standard  of  religious  character.  When 
the  classes  that  we  wish  to  reach  are  not  reached  by 
the  regular  churches,  and  when  they  can  be  reached 
by  tabernacles  and  Young  Men’s  Christian  Associa¬ 
tions  3  when  an  audience  of  five  thousand  comes  to¬ 
gether  in  an  open  hall,  —  can  such  an  opportunity 
be  innocently  thrown  away? 

We  are,  I  think,  far  underrating  the  willingness 
of  the  rougher  class  in  our  large  cities  to  hear  Chris¬ 
tian  truth.  We  are  far  from  meeting  their  hunger. 
The  intensity  of  desire  on  the  part  of  hundreds  and 
hundreds  who  have  given  up  hope,  to  be  encouraged, 
to  be  told  that  there  is  yet  a  prospect  for  them,  al¬ 
though  they  have  not  where  to  lay  their  heads,  is 
greater  than  you  imagine.  You  do  not  go  down 
into  the  lower  strata  of  society.  You  sit  before 
your  fender ;  you  toast  your  moccasons  there  ;  but 
if  you  would  stain  them  a  little  in  the  gutter,  and 
in  the  rough  straw  of  the  attics,  and  in  the  damp 
mire  of  the  cellars,  where  more  and  more  of  our  pop¬ 
ulation  in  cities  are  living,  you  would  find  yourselves 
on  the  path  followed  by  Him  who  went  about  from 
house  to  house  doing  good.  [Applause.] 

THE  LECTUKE. 

At  the  Diet  of  Worms,  Martin  Luther,  when  re¬ 
quested  to  recant,  began  the  modern  discussion  of 
conscience  by  saying,  44  Here  I  stand.  I  can  do  no 
other.  It  is  not  safe  for  a  man  to  violate  his  con- 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  211 


science.  God  help  me  !  ”  In  these  words,  Protes¬ 
tantism  put  her  foot  upon  a  piece  of  granite,  which 
modern  scientific  research  is  now  convinced  takes 
hold  on  the  core  of  the  world.  Theology,  in  that 
speech  of  Luther’s,  took  its  position  upon  self-evi¬ 
dent  truth  in  regard  to  the  moral  sense,  and  asserted 
three  things :  — 

1.  That  a  man  has  conscience. 

2.  That  God  is  in  it. 

3.  That  it  is  not  safe  to  disobey  a  faculty  through 
which  God  looks,  as  of  old  he  looked  through  the 
Egyptian  pillar  of  cloud  and  fire  in  the  morning 
watch,  troubling  the  hosts  of  all  dissent. 

More  and  more  fruitfully,  since  Luther’s  day, 
religious  investigation  has  taken  up  the  topic  of 
conscience  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  scientific 
method.  Bear  with  me,  my  friends,  if,  in  discussing 
conscience  as  the  basis  of  the  religion  of  science,  I 
take  you  over  definitions  which  may  appear  at  first 
dry,  but  out  of  which,  possibly,  may  germinate  umbra¬ 
geous  foliage  in  which  the  very  birds  of  heaven  may 
sing,  and  under  which  at  last  we,  in  the  dust  and 
heat  of  these  tempestuous  days  of  debate,  may  sit 
down  in  peace,  and  be  refreshed. 

1.  Sensation  and  perception  always  co-exist. 

2.  Sensation  involves  perception  first  of  the  sensa¬ 
tion  or  feeling  itself,  and  second  of  an  object  caus¬ 
ing  the  feeling. 

3.  The  intensity  of  sensation  and  that  of  percep¬ 
tion,  when  both  are  exercised  at  the  same  instant, 
are  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  each  other. 


212 


CONSCIENCE. 


4.  These  are  the  laws  of  touch,  taste,  sight,  and  all 
the  physical  senses. 

“Knowledge  and  feeling,  perception  and  sensa¬ 
tion,”  says  Sir  William  Hamilton  (. Lectures  on  Meta¬ 
physics,  p.  336),  “  though  always  co-existent,  are 
always  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other.  That 
these  two  elements  are  always  found  in  co-existence, 
is  an  old  and  notorious  truth.” 

It  is  sometimes  asked  how  I  can  possibly  define 
conscience  as  both  a  perception  and  a  sensation. 
We  perceive  the  difference  between  right  and  wrong 
intentions.  We  feel  that  the  right  ought  to  he 
chosen,  and  the  wrong  rejected,  by  the  will.  Both 
these  acts,  I  affirm,  proceed  from  conscience.  A 
being  incapable  of  either  act  we  could  not  say  has  a 
conscience  ;  and  this  proves  that  both  the  powers 
must  be  named  in  any  definition  of  conscience.  But 
here  are  two  opposite  activities,  some  say.  Must  not 
conscience  be  either  all  intellectual  or  all  emotional  ? 
Is  it  not  all  a  perception  or  all  a  feeling  ?  What  is 
conscience  in  the  last  analysis,  perceptive  or  emo¬ 
tive?  Suppose  that  you  ask  this  question  concern¬ 
ing  the  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  or  that  of  the  beau¬ 
tiful.  Each  of  these  plainly  includes  both  percep¬ 
tion  and  feeling,  as  does  conscience. 

5.  The  sense  of  the  beautiful  involves  a  perception 
of  the  distinction  between  beauty  and  deformity,  and 
a  feeling  of  delight  in  the  one  and  of  distaste  for  the 
other. 

6.  The  sense  of  the  right  involves  a  perception  of 
the  distinction  between  good  and  bad  motives,  and  a 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  213 


feeling  of  delight  in  the  one  and  of  distaste  for  the 
other. 

We  must  not  confuse  together  conscience  and 
taste,  the  moral  and  the  aesthetic,  the  sense  of  the 
right  and  that  of  the  beautiful ;  but  there  are  most 
subtle  and  significant  resemblances  between  the  laws 
of  these  two  faculties.  I  have  some  strange  object 
presented  to  me,  and  I  perceive  it,  and  I  feel  at  once 
that  it  is  either  ugly  or  beautiful.  A  crooked  line,  a 
gnarled,  jagged  figure,  is  not  as  beautiful  as  a  circle. 
If  you  attack  me  here,  I  can  only  reply  that  these 
are  self-evident  truths  concerning  beauty  and  taste. 
I  have  a  sensation ;  and  connected  with  that  sensa¬ 
tion  is  a  perception  of  beauty  or  deformity.  The 
sensation  of  your  gnarled,  jagged  line  gives  me  a 
perception  of  what  I  call  deformity,  and  the  sensa¬ 
tion  of  the  circle  gives  me  a  perception  of  what  I 
call  beauty.  So  too  the  sensation  within  my  soul 
of  a  motive  which  is  not  harmonious  with  all  the 
light  I  possess  gives  me  the  impression  of  moral 
ugliness;  and  the  sensation  of  a  motive  perfectly 
conterminous  and  harmonious  in  all  particulars  with 
the  best  illumination  I  possess  or  can  obtain,  gives  me 
an  impression  of  moral  beauty.  Jonathan  Edwards 
described  virtue  as  the  love  of  right  motives  consid¬ 
ered  as  morally  beautiful,  or  as  admiration  for  good¬ 
ness  as  beauty  of  a  spiritual  sort. 

T.  The  perception  and  feeling  and  love  of  aesthetic 
beauty  are  pleasurable. 

8.  The  perfection  and  feeling  and  love  of  moral 
beauty  are  blissful. 


214 


CONSCIENCE. 


Thus  the  question  as  to  whether  the  sense  ol 
right  is  feeling  or  perception  is  answered  by  atten- 
tion  to  analogy  and  fact.  Sensation  implies  percep¬ 
tion.  The  sense  of  the  beautiful  includes  both 
perception  and  feeling.  It  is  not  proper  to  ask  con¬ 
cerning  the  sense  of  the  beautiful  or  that  of  the  ludi¬ 
crous,  whether  it  is  intellectual  or  emotional.  Each 
is  both;  and  the  sensation  involves  the  perception. 
Just  so  the  sense  of  right  involves  perception  necessa¬ 
rily.  So,  also,  in  my  power  of  physical  touch  and 
taste,  sensations  involve  perception. 

9.  By  physical  sensation  and  the  involved  percep¬ 
tion,  we  have  a  knowledge  of  physical  realities  out¬ 
side  of  us. 

10.  By  aesthetic  sensation  and  the  involved  per¬ 
ception,  we  have  a  knowledge  of  aesthetic  realities 
outside  of  us. 

11.  By  moral  sensation  and  the  involved  percep¬ 
tion,  we  have  a  knowledge  of  moral  realities  outside 
of  us. 

12.  All  the  certainties  of  physical  science  depend 
on  the  trustworthiness  of  the  self-evident  truths 
visible  to  us  in  the  perception  which  is  involved  in 
physical  feeling. 

13.  All  the  certainties  of  aesthetic  science  depend 
on  the  trustworthiness  of  the  self-evident  truths  vis¬ 
ible  to  us  in  the  perception  involved  in  aesthetic  feel¬ 
ing. 

14.  All  the  certainties  of  moral  science  depend  on 
the  trustworthiness  of  the  self-evident  truths  visible 
to  us  in  the  perception  involved  in  moral  feeling. 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  215 


15.  The  three  classes  of  certainties,  —  physical, 
[esthetic,  and  moral,  —  as  depending  equally  on  self- 
evident  truths  visible  to  us  in  perceptions  involved 
in  natural  sensations,  are  of  equal  degrees  of  author¬ 
ity. 

16.  The  ultimate  tests  of  certainty  in  physical, 
aesthetic,  and  moral  science,  are  therefore  the  same  in 
kind. 

When  I  take  in  my  hands  any  physical  object,  I  in 
the  first  place  feel  it,  and  am  conscious  of  the  sensa¬ 
tion  ;  in  the  second  place,  I  am  sure  that  something 
is  the  cause  of  that  sensation,  and  that  the  some¬ 
thing  is  not  myself.  It  is  outside  of  me.  There  is 
the  beginning  of  the  range  of  sensation.  This  feel¬ 
ing  involves  perception,  not  of  all  the  qualities  in 
the  external  object,  but  of  the  fact  that  there  is  an 
external  object.  I  do  not  know  what  is  in  a  book  by 
touching  it,  but  I  know  that  I  touch  somewhat,  and 
that  the  somewhat  is  not  myself.  It  is  so  in  sight 
and  in  hearing.  I  am  conscious  first  of  the  affection 
of  my  own  personality,  and  then  of  a  something 
outside  of  myself  causing  that  impression.  I  have 
no  control  over  the  laws  governing  physical  sen¬ 
sation. 

Just  so,  rising  into  the  range  of  taste,  I  find  that 
the  laws  of  beauty  are  not  ordained  by  myself.  I 
see  what  I  call  ugliness,  and  I  cannot  help  finding  it 
distasteful.  I  see  what  I  call  beauty,  and  I  cannot 
help  having  a  delight  in  it.  That  law  of  distaste  or 
of  delight  is  not  subject  to  my  will.  It  is  above  me. 
I  feel  that  it  is  something  outside  of  me,  and  that  it 


216 


CONSCIENCE. 


has  authority  in  the  universe  without  my  consent. 

It  is  one  of  the  laws  of  things,  just  as  much  as  the 
law  of  gravitation. 

We  are  all  agreed  up  to  this  point.  We  have  an 
experience  of  sensation  involving  perception  of  the 
law  of  physical  gravitation.  We  do  not  know  all 
about  it,  but  what  little  we  do  know  concerning  it  is 
sure  as  far  as  it  goes.  Just  so  I  do  not  know  all  the 
laws  of  the  beautiful,  but  I  know  that  there  is  a  dis¬ 
tinction  between  deformity  and  beauty,  and  that  this 
distinction  is  outside  of  me,  and  in  the  nature  of 
things.  As  by  the  evidence  of  the  physical  and  aes¬ 
thetic  senses  I  find  out  that  there  is  a  physical  law 
of  gravitation  outside  of  me,  and  that  there  is  a  law  of  . 
beauty  outside  of  me,  so,  when  I  rise  into  the  higher 
faculties  of  the  soul,  I  find  that  they  have  sensations, 
and  that  their  sensations  involve  perception,  and  that 
yonder,  in  the  loftiest  part  of  the  azure  of  the  sky 
within  us,  there  are  laws,  just  as  surely  as  in  this 
mid-sky  or  the  region  of  taste,  and  just  as  surely  as 
upon  the  earth  on  which  we  tread.  Here  are  physi¬ 
cal  things  —  sensation  involves  perception ;  here  are 
sestlietical  things  —  sensation  involves  perception  ; 
just  so  there  are  moral  things,  and  sensation  there, 
as  elsewhere,  involves  perception.  Therefore  if  you 
follow  the  scientific  method  based  on  the  trustworthi¬ 
ness  of  your  sensations  and  the  involved  perceptions 
in  physical  things,  and  follow  the  same  method  based 
on  the  trustworthiness  of  your  sensations  and  the 
involved  perceptions  in  sesthetical  things,  I  will  go 
farther,  and  affirm  in  the  name  of  the  universality  of 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  217 


law  precisely  what  you  have  affirmed  over  and  over 
again,  namely,  that  sensation  involves  perception; 
and  I  will  apply  this  principle  to  moral  as  you  have 
to  physical  and  sesthetic  perception  ;  and  thus  I  will 
find  in  the  upper  sky  a  law  by  the  scientific  method, 
just  as  we  find  one  in  the  mid-sky  and  on  the  earth. 
[Applause.]  If  objective  reality  is  guaranteed  by 
a  constant  experience  in  the  one  case,  it  is  in  the 
other. 

17.  We  have  a  constant  experience  that  our  natures 
are  made  on  such  a  plan  that  we  distinguish  between 
rightness  and  wrongness  in  motives. 

18.  We  have  a  constant  experience  that  we  are 
made  on  such  a  plan  that  we  feel  irresistibly  that 
we  ought  to  follow  right  motives,  and  not  follow 
wrong. 

19.  We  have  a  constant  experience  that  pain  or 
bliss  follow  duty  neglected  or  duty  done. 

20.  We  have  a  constant  experience  that  a  sense  of 
an  approval  or  disapproval  higher  than  our  own  fol¬ 
lows  duty  performed  or  duty  disregarded. 

21.  We  have  a  constant  experience  that  our  facul¬ 
ties  forebode  our  personal  reward  or  punishment  in 
another  state  of  existence,  according  as  we  do  or  do 
not  follow  conscience. 

22.  The  constant  experience  of  moral  sensation 
and  perception  is  as  perfect  a  ground  of  certainty  as 
to  moral  law  as  a  constant  experience  in  sesthetic 
sensation  and  perception  is  in  regard  to  sesthetic  law, 
or  as  a  constant  experience  in  physical  sensation  and 
perception  is  in  regard  to  physical  law.  (See  a  fresh, 


218 


CONSCIENCE. 


keen  book  by  Newman  Smyth,  The  Fdiaious  Feeling . 
New  York :  1877.) 

It  is  a  suggestive  remark  of  Nitsch,  the  great  Ger¬ 
man  theologian,  that  “  the  religious  consciousness 
perfects  and  justifies  itself,  when,  in  the  immediate 
life  of  the  spirit,  what  is  contained  in  the  original  feel¬ 
ing  of  God  (Gottesgefiihl)  objectifies  itself  in  a  con - 
stant  manner.”  (> System  der  Christ .  Lehre ,  p.  25.) 
The  far-reaching  law  that  a  constant  experience  is 
the  guaranty  of  all  scientific  certainty  bears  all  the 
tests  applied  to  truth  within  the  range  of  physical 
investigation.  Your  Tyndall,  your  Huxley,  your 
Spencer,  have  in  physical  science  no  grounds  of  cer¬ 
tainty  that  do  not  depend  upon  a  uniform  physical 
experience.  We  have  dreams,  to  be  sure,  in  which 
certain  strange  things  occur  to  us ;  but  the  dreams 
proceed  according  to  laws  which  are  not  a  constant 
experience.  We  find  that  they  lack  verification  in 
other  positions  of  our  consciousness.  We  are  not 
always  treated  by  the  external  world  as  we  are  in 
dreams.  But  when  we,  as  individual  men,  and  wak¬ 
ing,  have  a  constant  moral  experience ;  when,  age 
after  age,  we  as  a  race  walk  waking  through  all  the 
environments  of  history  ;  when  age  after  age  we  walk 
waking  under  all  the  winds  that  beat  upon  us  from 
out  of  the  skies  of  moral  truth ;  when  we  find  Con¬ 
stantly  that  there  is  a  difference  between  right  and 
wrong,  and  that  we  feel  we  ought  to  follow  good 
motives,  and  not  follow  bad  ;  when  constantly  we  are 
beaten  upon  in  the  same  way,  —  then  these  impres¬ 
sions  made  upon  us  are  revelatory  of  the  moial  plan, 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  219 


not  only  of  our  natures  but  of  our  environment,  and 
the  constancy  of  moral  experience  is  to  be  looked  on 
as  is  the  constancy  of  sesthetical  and  the  constancy 
of  physical  experience,  as  a  source  of  scientific  knowl¬ 
edge. 

Pardon  me,  my  friends,  if  I  say  that  modern  seep 
ticism  appeals  to  Caesar,  and  to  Caesar  it  shall  go. 
[Applause.]  You  believe,  you  say,  and  you  adhere 
unflinchingly  to  all  self-evident  propositions  within 
the  range  of  physical  research.  Sir  William  Hamil¬ 
ton  and  Kant  and  many  another  philosopher  have 
divided  our  faculties  into  the  understanding  and  the 
reason.  By  the  reason,  as  understood  by  Kant,  we 
do  not  mean  the  understanding,  but  the  faculty  of  per¬ 
ceiving  self-evident  truth.  Now,  there  are  self-evident 
truths  in  the  range  of  morals  as  surely  as  in  the 
range  of  physics.  Kant’s  practical  reason,  or  fac¬ 
ulty  by  which  we  perceive  self-evident  truths  of  the 
moral  kind,  is  only  another  name  for  conscience,  or 
the  moral  sense.  There  are  self-evident  truths  in 
the  range  of  aesthetics  as  surely  as  in  the  range  of 
morals.  We  have  a  faculty  by  which  we  perceive 
self-evident  truth  ;  or,  rather,  our  whole  nature  is  so 
made  that  we  cannot  but  believe  self-evident  propo¬ 
sitions.  Look  for  a  moment  at  these  different  lists  of 
propositions.  Take  a  few  merely  intellectual  self- 
evident  truths,  such  as  the  geometrical  and  mathe¬ 
matical  axioms.  We  are  all  convinced,  not  merely 
by  evidence,  but  by  self-evidence,  that  the  whole  is 
greater  than  a  part,  and  that  two  straight  lines  can¬ 
not  enclose  a  space,  and  that  every  change  must  have 


220 


CONSCIENCE. 


a  cause.  Just  so  in  the  range  of  aesthetics,  although 
the  intuitions  there  never  have  been  as  carefully 
studied  as  in  the  range  of  mathematics,  we  are  sure  that 
there  is  a  difference  between  beauty  and  deformity. 
We  do  perceive  by  direct  vision  that  a  circle  and  an 
ugly  gnarled  line  are  different,  and  that  the  one  must 
be  put  on  the  right  hand  and  the  other  on  the  left 
before  any  judgment-bar  of  taste.  All  men  agree  in 
these  feelings,  and  say  the  self-evident  truth  involved 
in  them  is  that  there  is  a  distinction  between  the 
right  hand  and  the  left  in  every  thing  touched  by 
our  sense  .of  the  beautiful.  But  we  rise  into  the 
region  of  morals,  and  there  is  yet  greater  clearness 
than  in  the  region  of  taste.  Here  is  an  intellectual 
axiom,  you  may  say,  but  it  is  really  a  moral  one  :  Sin 
can  be  the  quality  of  only  voluntary  action.  There 
is  a  perfectly  self-evident  moral  truth.  You  cannot 
prove  it  by  any  thing  that  does  not  assume  it.  It  is 
not  only  evident,  but  it  is  self-evident.  It  is  a  moral 
axiom,  and  you  are  just  as  sure  of  it  as  that  two  and 
two  make  four.  Sin  is  free,  or  you  cannot  make  sin 
out  of  it. 

Tyndall  now  publicly  agrees  with  Hackel  in  main¬ 
taining  that  the  will  is  never  free.  Echoes  are  already 
beginning  to  be  heard,  even  in  Boston,  of  his  Bir¬ 
mingham  assertion  that  the  robber,  the  ravisher,  the 
murderer,  offend  because  they  cannot  help  offending. 
They  are  to  be  punished,  indeed ;  but  they  are  no 
more  blameworthy  than  honest  men  and  reformers 
and  saints  and  martyrs  are  praiseworthy.  In  this 
city  I  read  in  an  editorial  yet  wet  from  the  press  the 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  221 


assertion  that  the  criminal  offends  because  he  cannot 
help  offending,  and  that  such  a  doctrine  permeating 
society  would  free  us  from  a  large  amount  of  theolo- 
gical  quackery.  Will  the  teachers  of  this  atrocious 
shallowness  insure  the  prisons  against  the  effects  of 
their  own  quackery  ?  Will  they  lift  off  from  trade 
and  social  life  the  weight  of  this  false  science,  which, 
if  trusted,  will  ride  greed  and  fraud  as  never  nightmare 
rode  invalid  ?  When  the  last  word  of  the  Hackelian 
evolutionists,  — opposing  Darwin,  opposing  Dana,  op¬ 
posing  Owen,  opposing  every  anti-materialistic  theory 
of  evolution  in  England  or  Germany,  and  all  similar 
schools  in  metaphysics,  —  is  a  denial  that  the  will  is 
ever  free,  and  an  assertion  that  the  murderer  and  the 
robber  and  the  ravisher  offend  because  they  cannot 
help  offending,  it  may  be  said  with  justice  that  the 
materialistic  cuttle-fishes  are  trying  to  attack  the 
leviathians  of  self-evident  truth,  by  throwing  off  ink 
into  the  sea  !  They  will  succeed  in  making  things 
clear  only  when  the  sea  is  all  of  their  own  color. 

If  a  man  is  to  be  loyal  to  axioms,  if  a  thinker  is 
to  require  of  himself  consistency,  if  there  is  to  be 
clearness  or  straightforwardness  in  thought,  we  must 
demand  that  the  scientific  method,  rising  thus  from 
the  physical  to  the  sesthetical,  and  into  the  moral, 
shall  hold  fast  to  self-evident  truth  yonder,  just  as  in 
the  mid-sky  and  on  the  sods  of  purely  physical 
research.  I  will  not  admit  that  the  whole  world  be¬ 
longs  to  the  men  who  follow  scientific  truth  only 
in  its  physical  relations.  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should 
deny  that  they  are  making  important  discoveries) 


222 


CONSCIENCE. 


They  mine  far  into  the  earth,  they  sink  wells  down 
and  down ;  hut  at  the  bottom  of  their  wells,  looking 
upward,  they  do  not  see  the  whole  range  of  truth. 
It  is  important  to  recognize  the  merit  of  men  who 
sink  wells  into  the  earth ;  but  if  they,  as  specialists, 
are  to  have  sound  minds,  they  must  come  often  to 
the  curb-stone,  and  at  least  put  th£ir  heads  out,  and 
gaze  around,  north,  south,  east,  and  west.  (Smyth, 
The  Religious  Feeling.')  They  will  find  the  mid-sky  a 
fact,  as  well  as  the  bowels  of  the  planet ;  they  will  find 
the  upper  sky  a  fact,  as  well  as  the  mid-sky,  and  as  well 
as  that  inner  vein  which  they  have  been  working.  We 
are  not  out  of  the  range  of  gravitation  when  we  are 
out  of  the  physical  specialists’  well.  We  are  not  out 
of  the  range  of  self-evident  truth  when  we  rise  out  of 
the  mine,  and  look  around  us  and  above  us.  Forever 
and  forever,  we  must  acknowledge  the  unity  and  the 
universality  of  law ;  and  therefore  self-evident  moral 
truth  will  be  to  us  always  a  pedestal  from  which  the 
philosophy  of  religion  will  be  visible  to  its  very  tur¬ 
ret,  if  only  we  carry  up  her  telescope  to  that  summit 
along  the  line  of  the  only  rent  through  the  clouds 
that  God’s  own  hand  seems  to  have  made  when  he 
stretched  forth  his  creating  arm,  and  implanted  these 
self-evident  truths  in  the  human  constitution.  [Ap- 
plause.] 

23.  We  know  incontrovertibly,  therefore,  by  a 
constant  experience  of  a  moral  law  and  of  a  Personal 
Power  not  ourselves,  that  makes  for  righteousness, 
that  the  plan  of  our  natures,  taken  as  a  whole,  and 
the  environment  we  have  here  and  hereafter,  require 
us  to  choose  what  ought  to  be. 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  223 


24.  But  to  choose  is  to  love. 

25.  To  follow  the  plan  of  our  natures,  or  con¬ 
science,  both  in  what  it  includes  and  in  what  it  im 
plies,  we  must  therefore  love  a  personal  God,  revealed 
through  the  imperative  commands  of  conscience,  and 
in  the  pains  and  blisses  of  our  constant  moral  ex¬ 
perience. 

If  any  one  scheme  of  philosophy  now  appears  more 
likely  than  another  not  to  disappear,  it  is  that  of 
which  the  fundamental  thought  is  an  ethical  repre¬ 
sentation  of  the  universe.  The  philosophy  of  Lotze, 
like  that  of  Leibnitz  and  Plato,  turns  on  the  central 
principle  that  the  ends  of  the  universe  are  moral. 
One  of  Lotze’s  profoundest  sayings  is  :  “  The  world  of 
worths  is  the  key  to  the  world  of  forms.”  This  is  the 
deepest  ethical  teaching  of  your  Julius  Muller,  and  of 
your  Dorner,  your  Rothe,  and  your  Ulrici,  —  that  we 
never  understand  any  thing  until  we  connect  it  with 
the  moral  purpose  had  in  view  by  the  Author  of  all 
things  from  the  first.  Study  physical  science  only,  and 
perhaps  you  may  be  tempted  to  conclude,  as  Stuart 
Mill  did,  either  that  God  is  limited  in  power,  or  that 
there  is  a  doubt  of  his  goodness.  But  when  we 
turn  from  external  nature  to  the  moral  law,  revealed 
by  the  scientific  method ;  when  we  fasten  our  atten¬ 
tion  upon  the  great  tendencies  and  influences  which 
are  to  give  ethical  causes  supremacy,  and  make  the 
right  victorious;  when  we  remember,  with  Matthew 
Arnold,  that  the  Eternal  Power  which  is  outside  of 
us  makes  for  righteousness,  and  makes  imperatively 
for  it,  and  victoriously  for  it,  —  we  see  that  the  end  is 


224 


CONSCIENCE. 


not  jet ;  that  the  scheme  of  the  universe  is  not  fully 
executed ;  that  the  perfection  of  the  moral  law  proph¬ 
esies  the  perfection  of  the  ultimate  arrangements  of 
things ;  and  that,  therefore,  in  conscience  we  have  an 
observatory  higher  than  that  of  physical  science  ever 
was,  from  which  to  gaze  upon  the  supreme  harmonies 
of  the  universe. 

He  who  enters  into  the  depths  of  his  conscience, 
and  there  muses,  pacing  to  and  fro,  is  more  likely  to 
meet  God,  and  to  understand  the  plan  of  the  whole 
universe,  physical  as  well  as  moral,  than  he  who 
paces  to  and  fro  among  the  Seven  Stars,  or  puts  his 
hand  upon  the  sword-hilt  of  Orion,  or  flies  with  Cyg- 
nus  across  the  meridian,  or  follows  Bootes  as  he 
drives  his  hunting  dogs  over  the  zenith  in  a  leash  of 
sidereal  Are.  He  who  fastens  his  attention  on  the 
uppermost  ranges  of  natural  law  will  understand  the 
lower,  into  which  the  upper  sink  down  with  supreme 
power.  He  who.  gazes  only  upon  the  planets  will 
understand  neither  the  planets  nor  the  suns.  Begin 
with  the  loftiest  that  is  known  to  us ;  take  the  scien¬ 
tific  method  up  into  the  constellations  which  in  all 
ages  have  had  constant  forms  in  the  human  inner  sky ; 
study  the  sense  of  dependence  and  obligation  which 
point  to  a  personal  God,  —  and  you  will  find  that  the 
universe  has  everywhere  an  ethical  tendency;  you 
will  find  that  the  ethical  aim  of  all  things  is  the  jus¬ 
tification  of  all  things,  and  in  conscience  will  discover 
the  Copernican  system  of  the  moral  heavens. 

“Love  God,”  writes  Thomas  Carlyle:  “this  is  the 
everlasting  Yea  in  which  all  contradiction  is  solved, 


FOUNDATION  OF  THE  RELIGION  OF  SCIENCE.  225 


and  in  which  whoso  walks  and  works,  it  is  well  with 
him.”  ( Sartor  Resartus.') 

Repetition  of  experiment !  That  is  the  scientific 
test  of  deepest  significance.  Religious  Science  does 
not  flinch  in  the  application  of  it.  In  that  test  she 
finds  all  her  victories.  She  asserts  that  there  is  a 
Power  that  makes  for  righteousness,  and  points  to  all 
history  as  a  repetition  of  tests  of  that  truth.  She 
asserts  that  conscience  crowns  whoever  yields  to  its 
demand  of  personal  self-surrender  to  the  moral  law 
and  to  the  personal  Lawgiver  revealed  through  moral 
sensation  and  perception.  Her  assertion  she  justifies 
by  repetitions  of  experiments  in  individual  lives,  age 
after  age.  The  more  perfectly  you  adhere  to  experi¬ 
ment,  the  more  are  you  fortified  in  belief  of  all  the 
great  truths  concerning  conscience.  Who  are  these 
sceptics  who  revere  the  scientific  method,  and  are 
unwilling  to  try  experiment  even  once  concerning 
this  upper  realm  of  truth  ?  I  assert  that  it  is  a  fixed 
natural  law,  that  when  the  soul  yields  utterly  to  God 
He  streams  into  the  spirit,  gives  a  new  sense  of  His 
presence,  and  imparts  a  strength  unknown  before. 
Will  you  try  such  self-surrender,  and  then  will  you 
repeat  the  experiment  as  opportunity  offers,  —  I  care 
not  how  often  ?  Every  path  of  choice  divides  before 
me.  The  right  hand  or  the  left  I  must  take,  and  I 
take  the  right.  Immediately  the  path  divides  right 
and  left  again.  I  take  the  right.  Immediately  it 
divides.  Every  choice  as  to  the  path  has  a  moral 
character ;  and  so  either  sin  rolls  up  fast,  or  the  habit 
of  virtue  grows  fast.  Every  day  you  put  forth 


226 


CONSCIENCE. 


billions  of  choices,  and  in  every  choice  there  is  a 
moral  motive.  But  now  I  affirm  that  in  these  billions 
of  opportunities  for  experiments,  in  these  ten  thou¬ 
sand  times  ten  thousand  chances  to  test  whether  I  am 
right  or  wrong,  you  will  not  find  one  chance  failing 
to  give  you  this  verdict,  that,  if  you  yield  utterly  to 
God,  he  will  stream  through  you.  Whenever  your 
conscience  is  made  gladly  supreme,  its  yoke,  by  ir¬ 
resistible  natural  law,  will  transform  itself  into  a 
crown.  This  constant  experience  you  will  have  at 
every  forking  of  the  ways  ;  and  so  every  forking  will 
be  to  you,  if  you  choose  to  make  it  such,  a  repetition 
of  experiment,  and  a  verification  of  the  trustworthi¬ 
ness  of  the  scientific  method  applied  to  the  innermost 
holiest  of  the  soul.  Rising  through  that  constant  ex¬ 
perience,  we  may,  even  in  our  present  low  estate,  ap¬ 
proach  the  bliss  of  the  upper  ranges  of  being,  and  of 
those  who  never  have  sinned,  and  of  that  Nature 
which  was  revealed  on  earth  once,  as  the  fulness  of 
Him  who  filleth  all  in  all.  His  bliss  is  the  brightness 
of  all  infinities,  and  is  symbolized  to  us  by  our  own  in¬ 
tellectual,  aesthetic,  and  moral  gladness,  when  we  are 
right  with  a  universe  in  which  all  law  is  one  thought, 
and  that  His  own.  It  should  be  asserted  by  science 
in  the  name  of  experiment,  that  man  may  become  a 
partaker  of  the  Divine  nature.  Adjust  the  con¬ 
science  to  the  law  it  reveals,  and  He  whose  will  the 
law  expresses  will  invariably  produce  in  the  soul  the 
largest  measure  it  can  receive  of  his  own  bliss  and 
strength.  [Applause.] 


THE  LAUGHTER  OE  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF. 


THE  EIGHTY-NINTH  LECTURE  IN  THE  BOSTON  MONDAY 
LECTURESHIP,  DELIVERED  IN  TREMONT  TEMPLE, 

NOV.  26. 


O  die  Wunde  des  Gewissens  wird  keine  Narbe,  u  id  die  Zeit 
kiiblt  sie  nicbt  mit  ilirem  Fliigel  sondern  halt  sie  bios  offen  mit  ilirer 
Senfe.  —  Richter:  Titan,  cycle  Ixxxii. 

N ofiog  6  (pvXaxOeic  ovdtv  kanv ,  f/  vo/aog, 

&  f&y  fvXaxOelg  nal  vofiog  ical  drj/j.iog. 

Men andeb:  Ex  Legislatore. 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUL  AT 

ITSELF. 


PRELUDE  ON  CURRENT  EVENTS. 

t 

Poor  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  affirms  in  his  Confess 
sions,  that  the  happiest  instants  of  his  entire  career, 
which  ran,  as  you  know,  through  unreportable  villa- 
nies  and  leprosies,  were  in  an  afternoon,  when  he  was 
yet  virtuous,  and  met  a  company  of  young  people, 
themselves  yet  virtuous,  and  felt  the  strange  power 
of  the  pure  atmosphere  that  comes  into  the  world 
with  us,  as  he  breathed  it  deeply  in  the  height  of 
sociality.  A  thoroughly  atheistic  Frenchman,  who 
lived  on  the  whole  a  life  less  cleanly  than  that  of  a 
beast,  said  in  his  mature  age  that  if  he  could  have 
known  in  his  youth  what  kind  of  a  time  he  was  to 
have,  he  would  have  hung  himself. 

There  is  in  Boston  a  quarter  which  the  sailors  call 
the  Black  Sea.  Not  every  one  there  is  as  wise  as 
Rousseau,  or  as  this  atheistic  Frenchman ;  but  of 
course  Boston  is  as  wise.  On  many  a  shore  of  the 
ocean,  seaports  with  Black  Seas  in  them  exist. 
If  Boston  could  once  show  her  wisdom  by  making 


280 


CONSCIENCE. 


cleanly  this  one  Black  Sea,  she  would  set  an  example 
for  all  coasts.  We  draw  near  Thanksgiving  morn¬ 
ing,  and  have  I  not  a  right  to  speak  of  Magdalen 
in  cities?  I  know  on  what  ground  I  am  treading, 
and  that  if  any  speaker  slips  here,  there  hangs  over 
him  the  crack  of  doom;  but  one  purpose  of  this 
lectureship  is  to  discuss  themes  that  cannot  well  be 
noticed  elsewhere.  If  you  will  bear  with  me,  I  must 
say  that  Boston  has  as  noble  facilities  as  any  city  on 
the  globe  for  solving  the  problem  of  the  manage¬ 
ment  of  the  corrupt  and  perishing  classes  in  great 
towns.  More  than  half  the  population  of  this  Com¬ 
monwealth  live  in  cities.  Boston  is  not  so  painfully 
under  the  control  of  a  foreign-born  vote  as  is  the 
metropolis  at  the  mouth  of  the  Hudson.  In  New 
York  two  hundred  thousand  of  the  inhabitants  were 
born  in  Ireland,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
in  Germany.  I  know  that  New  England,  in  its 
manufacturing  centres,  is  becoming  New  Ireland; 
I  know  that  Boston,  within  municipal  limits,  is 
becoming  an  Irish  city.  But  take  Boston  sleeping- 
rooms  into  view,  or  the  circuit  of  the  fifty  miles  in 
each  direction  in  sight  of  the  State  House,  and  the 
population  within  that  space  is  as  American  and  as 
enlightened  as  that  in  any  other  quarter  of  equal 
size  on  the  globe.  Property  is  more  equally  diffused 
here  than  in  any  other  section  of  equal  extent ;  and 
so  are  intelligence  and  virtue.  I  know  what  large 
claims  these  are,  but  I  am  not  a  citizen  of  Massachu¬ 
setts  by  birth.  I  am  proud  of  my  native  State,  New 
York,  with  the  great  Sound  and  the  gates  of  the 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUI  AT  ITSELF.  231 


ocean  at  one  corner  of  its  wide  territory,  tlie  Adiron- 
dacks  at  another,  and  the  eternal  roar  of  Niagara  at 
a  third.  But  you  have  opportunity  here,  which 
New  York  may  never  possess,  to  wash  a  desolate  city 
quarter  white,  or  at  least  gray.  If  you  do  not 
improve  the  opportunity,  the  time  will  come  when 
even  Beacon  Hill  will  be  aware  of  the  presence  of 
the  Black  Sea  in  this  municipality.  The  two  quar¬ 
ters  are  not  far  apart,  a  small  fraction  of  a  mile,  and 
yet  they  are  not  acquainted  with  each  other.  In 
many  seaports  of  the  world  the  Black  Sea  and  the 
Beacon  Hill  exist,  but  they  rarely  understand  each 
other.  Is  it  not  time,  now  that  God  is  massing  men 
in  great  towns,  and  especially  in  seaports,  for  Ameri¬ 
cans  who  claim  to  have  political  ingenuity  and  moral 
enthusiasm,  to  ask  whether  there  can  be  a  noose 
made  that  will  throttle  the  enemies  of  Magdalen  ? 

What  can  be  done  for  Magdalen  in  cities  ?  Seven 
things. 

1.  Visitation  of  the  degraded  is  possible  to  women. 

This  remedy  of  personal  intercourse  with  those 
who  have  gone  down  beyond  the  lowermost  round 
of  the  ladder  that  leads  into  society  is  a  two-edged 
method  of  action.  In  the  first  place,  it  teaches  the 
haughty  and  the  luxurious  who  go  down  there  that 
life  is  not  all  of  the  smooth  sort,  and  that  really,  in 
this  nineteenth  century,  and  to  the  last  hour  of  the 
unrolling  ages,  there  are  places  into  which  men  can¬ 
not  venture  safely,  and  especially  not  women.  In 
ull  velvet  society  we  need  to  be  taught  that  between 
the  right  hand  and  the  left  there  is  a  difference  abso« 


232 


CONSCIENCE. 


lutely  infinite.  The  chief  merit  of  the  measure  of 
personal  visitation  is  in  its  reflex  action  upon  a  luxu 
rious,  soft,  hammock-swung,  lavender  Christianity. 

You  have  here  in  the  North  End,  close  under  your 
windows,  children  that  are  born  cherubic,  possibly, 
but  who  grow  impish  very  fast.  They  are  elbowed 
by  the  dance-hall.  They  look  out  of  their  cradles 
into  brothels.  Behind  their  nursery  windows  stand 
the  reeking  stables.  Up  and  down  the  gutters  stag¬ 
ger  and  fight  men  whom  drink  has  made  demons. 
They  curse  each  other  in  the  hearing  of  the  young 
ears.  Women  whom  drink  has  made  furies  preside 
at  many  cradles.  Sottish  and  leprous  parents  ought 
to  perish,  you  think ;  but  what  of  their  children  ? 
The  shiftlessness  of  the  Portuguese  and  the  Italians 
and  the  Irish,  and  the  nineteen  other  nationalities  who 
are  represented  in  that  Black  Sea,  deserves  the  spur 
of  hunger,  you  say.  But  are  the  children  to  blame 
for  being  there  ?  Have  they  not  a  right  to  a  perma¬ 
nent  place  in  your  pity?  Surely  they  did  not  choose 
the  spot  in  which  they  should  come  into  the  world. 
After  all  that  we  say  haughtily  about  letting  vice 
take  its  own  course,  we  must  remember  that  children 
start  weighted  in  the  race  of  life,  and  that  we  our¬ 
selves  put  upon  them  some  of  the  weights  if  we 
allow  these  desolate  quarters  to  go  without  religious, 
social,  and  financial  visitation. 

2. -  The  opening  of  homes  for  the  degraded  is 
possible. 

3.  The  sending  of  the  reformed  out  on  demand 
into  families  is  possible. 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF.  233 


You  believe  in  experience.  I  hold  in  my  hands 
official  statements  which  are  authorized  by  some  of 
the  noblest  signatures  in  the  city,  and  which  I  might 
justify  by  giving  names.  On  the  authority  of  these 
statements  I  assure  you  that  it  is  a  fact  that  some 
graduates  of  homes  for  the  fallen  are  now  members 
in  good  standing  in  Christian  churches  in  this  city 
and  vicinity.  It  is  a  fact  that  several  of  them  have 
so  comported  themselves  in  the  households  where 
they  have  been  placed,  that  intelligent  clergymen 
and  clear-sighted  matrons  have  written  in  the  high¬ 
est  commendation  of  them.  It  is  a  fact  that  some 
have  scarcely  wavered  for  ten  years,  and  that  then 
the  open  bars  of  our  city  were  the  pitfalls  which 
caused  the  temptation.  It  is  a  fact  that  at  least  one 
of  the  homes  which  these  official  authorities  repre¬ 
sent  has  had  more  demands  for  graduates  from  it  than 
it  could  supply.  I  am  speaking  of  the  Mount  Hope 
Home,  if  you  will  have  me  be  definite,  in  charge  of 
the  North  End  Mission  —  no  sectarian  enterprise.  I 
do  not  underrate  the  numerous  priceless  denomina¬ 
tional  enterprises  in  this  Black  Sea.  I  speak  for 
them  all  in  speaking  for  the  North  End  Mission, 
which  is  aided  by  all  denominations.  This  home, 
supported  by  that  mission,  is  a  staircase  up  which 
degraded  persons  have  ascended,  —  helped  by  the 
angels,  no  doubt,  —  and  have  reached  the  highest 
standing-place  in  some  cases ;  have  had  opportunity 
to  offer  themselves  to  God ;  have  escaped  from  the 
Gehennas  of  this  life.  And  now  there  is  a  bar  across 
that  staircase !  What  is  it  made  by  ?  I  look  at  it 


234 


CONSCIENCE. 


with  amazement.  I  can  hardly  believe  it  is  a  bar 
any  thing  but  the  vapor  of  the  harbor.  I  can  hardly 
believe  it  is  any  barrier  to  the  ascent  of  these  de¬ 
graded  ones  to  a  life  of  reformation.  I  come  nearer 
to  that  bar.  I  look.  There  is  an  inscription  on  it. 
What  is  it?  “Shut  for  want  of  funds.”  And  un¬ 
derneath  is  written  “  Boston  ”  —  is  it  “  Boston  penu¬ 
riousness,”  or  “  Boston  carelessness  ”  ?  There  is  a 
fog  there ;  I  will  not  try  to  read  the  inscription :  it 
is  one  or  the  other.  [Applause.] 

You  are  setting  an  example,  are  you,  foi  all  the 
seaports  of  the  world  ?  When  official  testimony  of 
this  kind  is  put  before  you;  when  little  Boston, 
easily  managed,  if  men  make  up  their  minds  to  do 
their  duty,  is  thus  in  a  strategic  position  among 
American  cities ;  when  New  York  and  San  Fran¬ 
cisco  and  New  Orleans,  and  Liverpool,  and  Lisbon, 
and  Naples,  and  all  the  Black  Seas  the  world  around, 
are  each  throwing  up  to  the  sky  a  glance  like  a 
gleam  of  light  out  of  a  serpent’s  eye,  and  you  are 
asked  here  to  put  out  one  of  those  eyes  once  for  all, 
and  change  one  Black  Sea  into  a  sweet  pool  of 
waters,  you  fold  your  hands ;  you  say  that  these 
things  must  take  care  of  themselves,  and  that  the 
whole  problem  perhaps  is  insoluble.  And  yet  those 
who  go  down  into  these  dark  waters,  men  who  have 
made  specialists  of  themselves  there,  and  some  of 
them  are  highly  educated,  assure  you  that  nothing 
is  needed  but  financial  and  moral  support  to  secure 
again  and  again  a  passage  up  that  now  blocked  stair¬ 
case  for  those  whose  feet  and  bodies  and  whole  form 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF.  235 


to  above  the  lips  —  they  cannot  call  out,  they  have  no 
voice,  and  I  give  them  what  little  voice  I  have  —  are 
submerged.  You  say  these  men  are  wild;  but  they 
say  that  those  who  are  sunk  even  beyond  the  lips 
and  even  beyond  the  eyes,  and  cannot  see  their  own 
condition,  may  emerge,  and  put  on  white  robes. 
[Applause.] 

4.  There  may  be  execution  of  law  against  houses 
of  death. 

You  vote  for  mayors  and  aldermen;  you  have 
serious  views  as  to  how  this  city  ought  to  be  man¬ 
aged.  You  are  intending  to  reform  it  by  a  paper 
constitution  by  and  by.  You  are  determined  to  have 
a  responsible  mayor  in  this  city.  The  lack  of  an 
executive  that  can  be  brought  to  justice  is,  indeed, 
the  chief  deficiency  in  our  municipal  governments 
throughout  the  United  States.  But  the  people  are 
mayors ;  the  people  are  aldermen.  The  careless  vot¬ 
ing  of  American  cities,  when  attempts  are  made  to 
avoid  the  execution  of  the  law,  is  something  that 
ought  to  make  the  statues  of  the  fathers  here  in 
Boston  leap  from  their  pedestals. 

5.  There  may  be  laws  to  hold  men  to  as  stern  an 
accountability  as  women  on  the  public  streets.  [Ap¬ 
plause.] 

6.  The  temperance  laws  may  be  executed. 

7.  The  German  social  standards  in  pagan  days 
may  be  revived. 

What  does  Tacitus  say  of  our  fathers,  when, 
nnder  the  German  forests,  they  were  first  brought 
within  range  of  the  historic  telescope  ?  They  were 


236 


CONSCIENCE. 


monogamists.  The  love  of  home  was  one  source  of 
the  patriotism  of  the  Teutonic  tribes.  The  Romans 
never  conquered  our  fathers.  Is  the  love  of  home 
likely  to  be  undermined  among  Anglo-Saxons  ?  Did 
you  read  Herbert  Spencer’s  Sociology  ?  Did  you  not 
find  him  turning  all  the  light  of  advanced  thought 
upon  the  question  which  lies  at  the  centre  of  social 
life ;  and  justifying,  in  the  name  of  philosophy  of  the 
freest  sort,  the  soundest  ideas  on  that  theme  ?  Per¬ 
haps,  if  you  will  be  as  anxious  as  Spencer  is,  to  under¬ 
stand  natural  law,  you  will  agree  with  him  thoroughly 
in  his  organizing  and  redemptive  conclusions  con¬ 
cerning  sociology.  You  know  that  I  am  not  a  eulogist 
of  Spencer  in  general ;  but  he  has  said  lately  a  few 
things  which  look  wiser  than  his  earlier  declarations. 
(Spencer,  Principles  of  Sociology ,  1876,  vol.  i.,  part 
iii.)  The  truth  is,  that  the  family  is  more  and  more 
J  put  in  peril  by  the  advance  of  luxury  in  civilization 
and  by  the  massing  of  men  in  cities,  and  by  a  leprous 
philosophy  that  holds  that  man  is  never  to  blame, 
whatever  he  does.  Are  we  to  sit  still,  and  have  that 
doctrine  taught  ?  Are  we  to  let  the  trail  of  that  ser¬ 
pent  drag  itself  over  the  leaves  of  the  vines  that 
cluster  on  the  trellis-work  of  our  homes  ?  Herbert 
Spencer  sends  out  no  such  creeping  worm  of  the 
Nile  into  social  life.  Materialistic  philosophers  have 
done  so  lately. 

There  are  many  Saxon  faces  in  this  audience. 
The  blue  eyes,  the  white  forehead,  the  blonde  cheek, 
the  fair  hair,  are  signs  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  lineage. 
That  race  rules  the  world  to-day.  It  may  not  always 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF.  287 


rule  it.  It  rules  it  for  a  cause.  That  race  has  given 
co  us  Goethe  and  Milton  and  Shakspeare ;  and  Bacon 
and  Kant  and  Hamilton  and  Edwards ;  and  Crom¬ 
well  and  Washington  and  Lincoln.  It  wrote  Magna 
Charta,  the  English  Constitution,  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States. 
It  has  bridged  the  ocean  with  its  commerce,  and 
traversed  it  with  its  electric  wires.  That  race,  in  its 
German  forests,  was  noted  for  nothing  so  much  as 
the  spotlessness  of  its  private  morals.  While  yet 
barbarian,  our  German  fathers,  as  the  Roman  histo¬ 
rians  state,  buried  the  adulterer  alive  in  the  mud. 
The  adulteress  they  whipped  through  the  streets. 
“  Non  forma”  says  Tacitus,  44  non  cetate ,  non  opibus , 
maritum  invenerit .”  44  Neither  beauty,  nor  youth, 

nor  wealth,  found  her  a  husband.  They  considered,” 
Tacitus  says,  44  that  there  was  something  divine  in 
woman,  and  that  presaged  the  future ;  and  they  did 
not  scorn  her  counsel  and  responses.”  Youth  were 
taught  chivalric  notions  of  honor.  Out  of  this  race 
sprang  chivalry.  It  is  this  race  which  has  proved 
itself,  in  the  hurtling  contests  of  a  thousand  years, 
both  in  peace  and  war,  superior  to  all  relaxed  Italian 
and  French  tribes  as  the  leader  of  all  the  world’s 
civilization.  The  purity  of  the  tribes  in  the  German 
forests  prophesied  their  future.  The  hiding  of  the 
power  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  has  been  in  the  fact 
that  it  was  at  the  first  free  from  the  sin  of  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah.  That  race  is  passing  the  trial  of  power. 
It  is  passing  the  trial  of  luxury.  In  the  German 
wilds  our  fathers,  as  the  Romans  found  them,  were, 


238 


CONSCIENCE. 


as  a  race,  as  pure  as  the  dews  the  forests  shook  upon 
their  heads.  The  race  has  predominated  in  history, 
because  free,  even  when  barbarian,  from  what  else¬ 
where  has  been  the  commonest  leprosy  of  barbarism. 
It  will  continue  to  predominate  if  it  continues  free. 
If  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  has  shown  exceptional  vigor, 
the  chief  secret  of  its  power  is  to  be  found  in  its  rev¬ 
erence  for  a  pure  family  life.  [Applause.]  It  will 
continue  to  have  power,  and  rule  the  world,  if  it  con¬ 
tinues  that  pure  life ;  otherwise,  not.  [Applause.] 

THE  LECTURE. 

The  innermost  laughter  of  the  soul  at  itself,  it 
rarely  hears  more  than  once  without  hearing  it  for¬ 
ever.  What  is  the  laughter  of  the  soul  at  itself?  Do 
you  not  know,  and  do  you  wish  me  to  describe, 
this  convulsion  of  irony,  of  fear,  it  may  be  of  despair, 
which  sends  cold  shivers  through  all  our  nerves, 
causes  a  strange  perspiration  to  stand  on  our  fore¬ 
heads,  and  makes  us  quail,  even  when  alone  —  as  we 
never  are?  You  would  call  me  a  partisan,  if  I  were 
to  describe  an  internal  burst  of  laughter  of  conscience 
at  the  soul.  Therefore  let  Shakspeare,  let  Richter, 
let  Victor  Hugo,  let  cool  secular  history,  put  before 
us  the  facts  of  human  nature. 

Here  is  Jean  Valjean,  principal  character  in 
Hugo’s  Les  Miserables ,  one  of  the  six  best  works  of 
fiction  the  last  century  has  produced.  Hugo  is  no 
theologian.  He  is  not  even  a  partisan  teacher  of 
ethics.  He  is  a  Frenchman.  His  ideals  have  been 
obtained  largely  from  Paris.  But  you  open  his 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF.  239 


chapter  entitled  “  A  Tempest  in  a  Brain,”  and  yon 
find  him  asserting  that  “  there  is  a  spectacle  grander 
than  the  ocean,  and  that  is  the  conscience.  There  is 
a  spectacle  grander  than  the  sky,  and  it  is  the  inte¬ 
rior  of  the  soul.  To  write  the  poem  of  the  human 
conscience,  were  the  subject  only  one  man,  and  he 
the  lowest  of  men,  would  be  reducing  all  epic  poems 
into  one  supreme  and  final  epos.  ...  It  is  no  more 
possible  to  prevent  thought  from  reverting  to  an  ideal 
than  the  sea  from  returning  to  the  shore.  With  the 
sailor  this  is  called  the  tide.  With  the  culprit  it  is 
called  remorse.  God  heaves  the  soul  like  the  ocean.” 
Elsewhere  this  modern  Frenchman  writes :  “  Let  us 
take  nothing  away  from  the  human  mind.  Suppres¬ 
sion  is  evil.  Certain  faculties  of  man  are  directed 
towards  the  Unknown.  The  Unknown  is  an  ocean. 
What  is  conscience  ?  The  compass  of  the  Unknown.” 
(. Les  Miserables ,  chapter  entitled  “  Parenthesis.”) 

Yaljean  here  has  been  in  the  galleys.  He  has 
escaped,  assumed  another  name,  and  has  become  the 
mayor  of  a  thriving  French  town.  In  his  business 
he  acquires  the  respect  of  all  who  know  him.  But 
one  day,  an  old  man  who  has  stolen  a  bough  of 
apples,  and  who  looks  like  Jean  Yaljean,  is  arrested 
as  Yaljean  himself,  and  is  in  danger  of  being  con¬ 
demned  to  the  galleys  for  life.  There  is  a  striking 
resemblance  between  the  faces  of  the  two  men.  The 
true  Yaljean  is  brought  face  to  face  with  the  ques¬ 
tion  whether  he  will  confess  his  identity,  or  allow 
another  man  to  go  to  the  galleys  in  his  place.  Yal¬ 
jean  has  tried  to  recover  his  character.  A  bishop, 


240 


CONSCIENCE. 


who  taught  him  religious  truth,  seems  to  hover  in 
the  air  over  him.  A  couple  of  golden  candlesticks 
which  the  bishop  gave  him,  he  treasures  as  posses¬ 
sions  priceless  for  their  reminiscences.  He  goes  to 
his  room ;  shuts  himself  in ;  and,  as  Victor  Hugo 
affirms,  he  was  not  alone,  although  no  other  man 
was  there.  Valjean  meditates  on  his  duty,  and  his 
mind  becomes  weary  under  the  tempest  of  conflict¬ 
ing  motives.  Shall  he  go  back  to  the  galleys? 
Shall  he  be  whipped  up  the  side  of  the  hulks  every 
night  in  loathsome  company  ?  Shall  he  feel  the  iron 
on  his  ankles  and  on  his  wrists?  Shall  he  hear 
nothing  but  obscenity  and  profanity  the  livelong, 
hard-working  day?  Shall  he  give  up  the  opportu¬ 
nity  of  being  a  benefactor  to  a  wide  circle  of  the 
poor?  Ought  he  not  to  make  money,  that  he  may 
give  it  away?  We  have  forgers  who  ask  that  ques¬ 
tion.  [Laughter.]  It  is  said  that  some  men  have 
thought  it  a  convenient  modern  trick  in  trade,  to 
endeavor  to  persuade  one’s  self  that  the  infinite 
weight  of  the  word  ought  lies  on  the  side  of  philan¬ 
thropic  forgery.  But  Victor  Hugo  does  not  repre¬ 
sent  Jean  Valjean  as  of  that  opinion.  In  spite  of  all 
the  temptations  found  on  that  side,  Valjean  at  last 
concludes  that  it  is  his  duty  to  declare  his  identity, 
and  save  this  Champmathieu  from  the  galleys. 

But  then,  as  you  remember,  there  comes  another 
thought  to  Valjean.  Fantine,  a  ward  of  his,  and  her 
child  Cosette,  depend  on  him  exclusively.  The 
mother  has  suffered  nearly  every  thing,  and  deserved 
to  suffer  much,  but  without  Valjean  her  life  and  that 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF.  241 


of  her  child  will  be  a  ruin.  “  Is  it  not,”  he  asks,  “  a 
clear  case  that  this  old  man,  who  has  but  a  few  years 
to  live,  is  worth  less  than  these  two  young  lives  ?  ” 
Throwing  himself  out  of  the  case,  Valjean  must 
leave  either  him  or  them  to  fate.  Reasoning  thus, 
he  at  last  adds  his  former  selfish  temptations  to  these 
unselfish  ones.  He  remembers  his  duties  to  himself 
and  his  duties  as  a  benefactor.  He  sums  them  all 
up ;  and  says  that,  after  all,  nobody  knows  that  he 
is  Jean  Valjean.  He  has  only  to  let  Providence 
take  its  course.  God  has  decided  for  him.  He 
makes  up  his  mind  not  to  declare  himself.  uJust 
there,”  Victor  Hugo  says,  “he  heard  an  internal 
burst  of  laughter.”  Hugo  affirms  that  a  man  never 
hears  the  deepest  laughter  of  this  kind  more  than 
once,  without  hearing  it  during  his  whole  existence, 
here  and  hereafter. 

Valjean,  however,  persists  in  his  resolution  not  to 
declare  himself.  He  repeats  his  reasoning  in  self¬ 
justification ;  he  thinks  that  he  speaks  from  the 
depths  of  his  conscience;  “but  still  h q  felt  no  joy  ” 
This  sign  of  self-deception  does  not  induce  him  to 
pause.  He  takes  down  his  old  galley  suit,  burns  it ; 
finds  the  thorn  stick,  with  its  iron-pointed  ends, 
which  he  had  used  when  a  vagabond,  burns  that; 
gazes  on  a  coin  which  he  robbed  from  a  boy,  puts 
that  in  the  fire ;  and  finally  he  prepares  to  destroy 
the  two  golden  candlesticks,  which  years  before  were 
given  him  by  the  bishop,  who  now  seems  to  be  in 
the  air  at  his  side,  not  able  to  face  him  quite,  but 
whispering  behind  his  ear.  He  takes  these  candle 


242 


CONSCIENCE. 


sticks,  bends  over  the  fire,  almost  stupefied  by  the 
violence  of  his  emotions ;  warms  himself  at  the  crack¬ 
ling  flames ;  throws  them  in  —  “  Valjean !  ”  He  looks 
up,  and  there  is  no  one  present.  There  was  some  one 
there,  Hugo  says,  but  He  was  not  of  those  whom  the 
human  eye  can  see.  “  Do  this,”  continued  the  voice, 
which  had  been  at  first  faint,  and  spoke  from  the  ob¬ 
scurest  nook  of  his  conscience,  and  which  had  gradu¬ 
ally  become  sonorous  and  formidable,  and  seemed  to 
be  outside  of  him :  “  put  into  the  flames  all  that  sug¬ 
gests  reminiscences  of  the  devout  sort.  Make  your¬ 
self  a  mask  if  you  please;  but,  although  man  sees 
your  mask,  God  will  see  your  face ;  although  your 
neighbors  see  your  life,  God  will  see  your  con¬ 
science.”  And  again  came  the  internal  burst  of 
laughter :  “  That  is  excellently  arranged,  you  scoun¬ 
drel  !  ” 

Midnight  struck.  Valjean  heard  two  clocks.  He 
compared  the  notes,  and  he  was  reminded  that  he 
had  seen  a  few  days  before,  in  a  shop,  a  bell  having 
on  it  the  name  Romainville.  Hugo  is  a  subtle  poet. 
He  says  much  between  the  lines.  Suddenly  Valjean 
remembered,  says  Hugo,  “that  Romainville  is  a 
little  wood  near  Paris,  where  lovers  go  to  pick  lilacs 
in  April.”  Valjean  falls  asleep,  and  has  a  dream. 
He  is  near  Romainville,  but  all  the  houses  are  of 
ashen  color ;  all  the  landscape  is  treeless  and  ashen  ; 
the  very  sky  is  of  leaden  hue.  He  enters  Romain¬ 
ville,  where  the  lilacs  grow  that  the  lovers  pick  in 
April,  —  deep  allegory  this,  by  a  Frenchman,  no  par¬ 
tisan,  no  theologian,  —  and  around  a  corner  where 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF.  243 


two  streets  meet,  lie  sees  a  man  leaning  against  the 
wall.  “Why  is  this  city  so  silent?”  The  man 
makes  no  reply.  Valjean  enters  a  house.  The  first 
room  is  empty;  in  the  second  room,  behind  the  door, 
he  finds  in  his  dream  another  silent  man,  leaning 
against  the  wall.  He  asks  him  why  the  house  is 
deserted,  but  no  reply  is  given;  and  all  the  walls 
are  ashen  color,  and  the  sky  continues  to  be  leaden. 
He  wanders  into  house  after  house.  He  finds  a 
fountain  bursting  up  in  a  garden,  and  behind  a  tree 
a  man,  but  he  too  is  silent.  There  was  behind  every 
corner,  every  door,  and  every  tree,  a  man  standing 
silently.  Before  entering  Romainville,  he  met  on 
the  plain  near  the  city  a  horseman,  “perfectly 
naked,”  —  Hugo  writes,  and  he  knows  what  he 
means, —  and  with  a  skull  instead  of  a  head,  but  yet 
the  veins  were  throbbing  around  the  skull ;  and  in  his 
hand  there  was  a  wand,  supple  as  any  grape-vine, 
yet  firm  and  heavy  as  lead.  With  that  wand  this 
horseman  was  to  chastise  the  inhabitants  of  this 
city.  Valjean,  in  his  dream,  went  out  of  the  lifeless 
town  in  horror,  and,  looking  back,  he  saw  all  its  in¬ 
habitants  coming  after  him.  They  saluted  him  on 
the  open  plain,  under  the  leaden  sky,  and  this  was 
their  language  :  “  Do  you  not  knoiv  that  you  have  been 
dead  for  a  long  while  ?  ”  Men  who  have  heard  the 
internal  burst  of  laughter  as  forgers,  as  lepers,  as 
those  who  dare  not  open  their  souls  to  their  neigh¬ 
bors,  find  behind  the  doors  and  in  the  booths,  and 
even  on  the  street-corners,  silent  men ;  and  when 
these  criminals,  known  to  God  under  their  masks, 


244 


CONSCIENCE. 


walk  into  solitude,  those  silent;  men  come  after  them , 
and,  when  once  conscience  has  been  finally  insulted, 
the  cry  of  all  the  nature  of  things  is  represented  by 
the  inhabitants  of  Romainville  in  Victor  Hugo’s 
dream.  Instead  of  lilacs  in  April,  you  have  the 
leaden  sky ;  you  have  all  the  earth  dun-color ;  you 
have  a  brazen  sod  on  which  to  stand ;  you  have  this 
horseman,  with  the  whip  lithe  as  a  grape-vine  and 
heavy  as  lead,  before  you ;  and  behind  you  this  host 
with  the  cry,  “  Do  you  not  know  that  you  have  been 
dead  a  long  while  ?  ”  [Applause.] 

Valjean  finally  confessed  his  identity;  and  the 
court  and  audience,  when  he  uttered  the  words,  “  I 
am  Jean  Valjean,”  “felt  dazzled  in  their  hearts,” 
Hugo  says,  “and  that  a  great  light  was  shining 
before  them.”  [Applause.] 

Take  Richter’s  Titan,  another  of  the  six  greatest 
works  of  fiction  the  last  century  has  given  to  the 
world,  and  perhaps  the  greatest  of  them  all.  Ro- 
quairol,  the  fiend  of  the  book,  dies  by  suicide.  He 
utters  no  words  which  the  Titanic  Richter,  no  par¬ 
tisan,  no  theologian,  does  not  put  into  his  mouth. 
Richter’s  human  horologes  have  crystal  dial-plates 
and  transparent  walls  which  allow  us  to  see  the 
mechanism  within.  More  than  once  this  Roquai- 
rol  has  heard  the  laughter  of  his  soul  at  itself. 
“  I  cannot  repent,”  says  the  leper,  with  his  pistol  at 
his  own  brain.  “  Should  that  which  time  has  washed 
away  from  this  shore  cleave  again  to  the  shore  of 
eternity,  then  it  must  fare  badly  with  me  there.  I 
can  change  there  as  little  as  here.  I  do  verily  pun 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF.  245 


ish  myself,  and  God  immediately  judges  me.”  Here 
he  suddenly  points  the  weapon  at  his  forehead,  fires, 
and  falls  headlong;  blood  flows  from  the  cloven 
skull ;  he  breathes  once,  and  then  no  more.  Albano, 
tlie  serene,  vast  soul  which  represents  Richter’s 
views  of  conscience,  stands  at  the  side  of  the  corpse, 
and  seems  to  hear  the  words  from  the  suicide’s  breast 
and  iron  mouth,  “  Be  still:  I  am  judged.”  (Titan, 
Cycle,  130.) 

But,  you  say  William  Shakspeare  would  not  be 
as'  melodramatic  as  this  Frenchman  Hugo,  nor  as 
serious  as  this  German  Richter.  He  was  an  English¬ 
man.  Although  Tennyson  has  lately  praised  Hugo 
in  a  sonnet,  and  although  Mrs.  Browning  has  said 
that  Dickens  learned  to  write  fiction  from  Hugo 
(Letters  of  Mrs.  Browning,  vol.  ii.),  you  will  follow 
no  French  authorities  as  to  conscience.  John  Cal¬ 
vin  was  a  Frenchman  [applause],  and  did  not  teach 
fatalism  either.  [Applause.]  Shakspeare  more  than 
once  has  represented  the  despair  of  the  soul  under 
the  law  of  its  own  nature  :  — 

“  Oh,  ray  offence  is  rank,  it  smells  to  heaven! 

It  hath  the  primal  eldest  curse  upon  it, 

A  brother’s  murder.  Pray  can  I  not, 

Though  inclination  be  as  sharp  as  will : 

My  stronger  guilt  defeats  my  strong  intent. 

•  •  •  •  '  •  •  •  •  • 

In  the  corrupted  currents  of  this  world, 

Offence’s  gilded  hand  may  shove  by  justice, 

And  oft  ’tis  seen  the  wicked  prize  itself 
Buys  out  the  law :  but  ’tis  not  so  above  *, 

There  is  no  shuffling,  there  the  action  lies 


246 


CONSCIENCE. 


In  his  true  nature ;  and  we  ourselves  compelled, 

Even  to  the  teeth  and  forehead  of  our  faults 
To  give  in  evidence.  What  then  ?  What  rests? 

Try  what  repentance  can  :  what  can  it  not? 

Yet  what  can  it  when  one  cannot  repent? 

O  wretched  state !  O  bosom  black  as  death  ! 

O  limed  soul,  that,  struggling  to  be  free, 

Art  more  engaged  1  Help,  angels !  Make  assay  ! 

Bow,  stubborn  knees  1  ” 

Hamlet ,  act  iii.  sc.  3. 

And  they  cannot !  But  the  knees  that  cannc  t 
bend  are  in  presence  of  the  hosts  of  which  Hugo 
speaks.  The  knees  that  cannot  bend  are  dead.  Is 
the  deepest  final  laughter  of  the  soul  at  itself  a 
laughter  from  which  it  can  flee?  In  the  next  life 
shall  we  escape  these  internal  bursts  of  laughter  from 
conscience  ?  Not  unless  the  soul  can  escape  from  itself. 
While  we  continue  to  be  spiritual  individualities,  we 
must  keep  company  with  the  plan  of  our  natures ;  and 
this  plan  is  expressed  in  that  allegory  of  Romainville, 
lilacs  in  April,  and  the  question  from  the  half-head¬ 
less  host,  “Do  you  not  know  that  you  have  been 
dead  a  long  time  ?  ” 

There  is  in  conscience,  Bishop  Butler  says,  a  pro- 
]  phetic  oflice ;  and  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  the  fore¬ 
most  Christian  apologist  of  the  late  centuries  did 
not  develop  this  stupendous  thought,  which  he  only 
suggests  in  his  famous  sermons.  “  Conscience,  with¬ 
out  being  consulted,”  Butler  says,  “  magisterially 
exerts  itself,  and,  if  not  forcibly  stopped,  naturally 
and  always  of  course  goes  on  to  anticipate  a  higher 
and  more  effectual  sentence,  which  shall  hereafter 


THE  LAUGHTER  OP  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF.  247 


second  and  affirm  its  own.  But  this  part  of  the 
office  of  conscience,”  continues  Butler,  “is  beyond 
my  present  design  explicitly  to  consider.”  ( Upon 
Human  Nature ,  Ser.  11.)  Now,  precisely  where 
Butler  paused  in  his  consideration  of  the  prophetic 
office  of  conscience,  Shakspeare  seems  to  have  be¬ 
gun  :  — 

“  To  be,  or  not  to  be, — that  is  the  question. 

To  die,  to  sleep ; 

To  sleep !  perchance  to  dream ;  ay,  there’s  the  rub. 

For  in  that  sleep  of  death  what  dreams  may  come, 

When  we  have  shuffled  off  this  mortal  coil, 

Must  give  us  pause. 

The  dread  of  something  after  death,— 

The  undiscovered  country,  from  whose  bourn 
No  traveller  returns,  —  puzzles  the  will, 

And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  have 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of. 

Thus  conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all.” 

Hamlet ,  act  iii.,  sc.  1. 

You  say  that  Shakspeare  is  here  speaking  poet¬ 
ically?  But  again  and  again  he  utters  the  same 
thought.  You  remember  Clarence’s  dream :  — 

“  My  dream  was  lengthened  after  life. 

Oh  I  then  began  the  tempest  to  my  soul, 

Who  passed,  methought,  the  melancholy  flood, 

With  that  grim  ferryman  the  poets  write  of, 

Unto  the  kingdom  of  perpetual  night. 

The  first  that  there  did  greet  my  stranger  soul 
Was  my  great  father-in-law,  renowned  Warwick, 

Who  cried  aloud,  ‘  What  scourge  for  perjury 


248 


CONSCIENCE. 


Can  this  dark  monarchy  afford  false  Clarence  ?  * 

And  so  he  vanished  ;  then  came  wandering  by 
A  shadow  like  an  angel,  with  bright  hair 
Dabbled  in  blood;  and  he  squeaked  out  aloud,  — 

‘  Clarence  is  come,  false,  fleeting,  perjured  Clarence, 
That  stabbed  me  in  the  field  by  Tewksbury. 

Seize  on  him,  Furies  !  take  him  to  your  torments  !  * 
With  that,  methought,  a  legion  of  foul  fiends 
Environed  me  about,  and  howled  in  mine  ears 
Such  hideous  cries,  that,  with  the  very  noise, 

I,  trembling,  waked,  and  for  a  season  after 
Could  not  believe  but  that  I  was  in  hell.” 

King  Richard  III.,  act  i.  sc.  4. 


The  internal  burst  of  laughter !  Shakspeare  knew 
what  it  was  in  its  earlier  smiles,  or  he  could  not  have 
written  these  passages  concerning  souls  that  seem  to 
have  heard  that  laughter  in  its  deepest  final  tones. 
[Applause.] 

Out  of  the  multitude  of  historical  examples  of  the 
laughter  of  the  soul  at  itself,  take  only  two.  There 
is  Charles  IX.  of  France.  He  consented  to  the 
massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  He  is  dying.  He  is 
twenty-four  years  of  age.  He  is  in  such  an  agony  of 
remorse  that  the  historians  say  there  is  documentary 
evidence  of  the  fact  that  he  sweat  blood.  Not  only 
did  the  blood  pour  out  of  nostrils  and  the  corners  of 
the  eyes,  but  in  many  places  through  the  corrugated 
veins  did  the  blood  ooze.  That  is  history,  and  not 
poetry.  He  recalled  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholo¬ 
mew,  to  which  he  had  assented.  “  How  many  mur¬ 
ders  !  what  rivers  of  blood !  ”  and  he  went  hence,  as 
Clarence  went  out  of  his  dream.  “  Quelle  preuve,” 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF.  249 


adds  a  French  historian  to  his  narrative  of  this  scene 
(Duruy,  Histoire  de  France ,  tome  2,  p.  120),  “  de 
Timpuissance  du  crime  a  tromper  la  conscience  du 
coupable !  ”  You  say  that  this  is  a  very  penetrating 
gleam  into  the  recesses  of  natural  law,  if  it  be  a  fact. 
You  know  that  facts  of  this  kind  are  numerous  in 
history;  and  no  philosophy  is  sound  that  does  not 
match  itself  to  all  the  facts  of  its  field.  The  blisses 
and  pains  of  conscience  !  We  know  the  pains  better 
than  the  blisses ;  but  the  nature  of  things  weighs  as 
much  for  us  as  it  does  against  us.  The  weight  of 
the  word  ought  is  as  great  when  it  is  against  us,  as 
it  is  when  it  is  for  us. 

John  Randolph  fought  a  duel  with  Henry  Clay. 
He  walks  into  the  senate-chamber,  staggering  in  his 
last  illness.  Mr.  Clay  is  rising  to  speak.  The  two 
men  have  not  addressed  each  other  for  months. 
“  Lift  me  up,”  says  Randolph,  loud  enough  for  Clay 
to  hear  him :  “  I  must  listen  to  that  voice  once 
more.”  He  was  lifted  up ;  Clay  finished  his  speech ; 
and  the  men  shook  hands,  and  parted  almost  friends. 
Randolph  was  taken  to  Philadelphia,  and  his  biogra¬ 
pher  ( Life  of  Randolph ,  vol.  ii.,  last  chapter)  —  I  am 
citing  no  newspaper  clamor  —  affirms  that  on  his 
death-bed  he  asked  his  physician  to  show  him  the 
word  remorse  in  the  dictionary.  “  There  is  no  dic¬ 
tionary  in  the  room,”  says  the  physician.  “  Very  well : 
here  is  a  card.  The  name  of  John  Randolph  is  on  one 
side  of  it:  write  on  the  other  the  word  which  best 
symbolizes  his  soul.  Write  remorse  in  large  letters ; 
underscore  the  word.”  After  that  was  done,  Ran- 


250 


CONSCIENCE. 


dolph  lifted  lip  the  card  before  his  eyes,  and  repeated 
in  a  loud  voice,  three  times,  “  Remorse,  remorse, 
remorse  !  ”  —  “  What  shall  we  do  with  the  card  ?  ”  says 
the  physician.  “  Put  it  in  your  pocket,  and  when  I 
am  dead  look  at  it.”  You  say  Randolph  was  insane. 
After  all  these  acts  he  dictated  his  will,  manumitting 
bis  slaves ;  and  at  that  day  such  a  will  could  not  be 
drawn,  except  by  an  acute  and  clear  head.  It  was 
technically  perfect.  uYou  know  nothing  of  re- 
morse,”  said  John  Randolph,  no  theologian,  no  par¬ 
tisan,  a  man  of  the  world.  “  I  hope  I  have  looked 
to  Almighty  God  as  a  Saviour,  and  obtained  some 
relief ;  but  when  I  am  dead  look  at  the  word  which 
utters  the  inmost  of  my  soul,  and  you  will  under¬ 
stand  of  what  human  nature  is  capable.”  Pie  had 
heard  the  internal  burst  of  laughter,  although  per¬ 
haps  not  in  its  deepest  tones. 

To  summarize  now  what  these  examples  prove :  — 

1.  There  is  an  Eternal  Power,  not  ourselves,  which 
makes  for  righteousness. 

2.  An  entire  agreement  exists  between  conscience 
and  the  issues  of  things. 

3.  Our  consciences  are  thus  in  harmony  with  that 
Power. 

4.  We  are  compelled  to  judge  ourselves  according 
to  the  moral  ideals  authorized  by  this  Eternal  Power, 
not  ourselves,  which  makes  for  righteousness. 

5.  We  cannot  escape  from  this  Power. 

6.  Vv^e  must  be  in  either  harmony  or  dissonance 
with  it. 

7.  If  in  dissonance  with  it,  we  must  bear  the  pains 


THE  LAUGHTER  OF  THE  SOUL  AT  ITSELF.  251 


which  are  the  inevitable  penalties  of  such  disso¬ 
nance. 

8.  Conscience  thus  makes  cowards  of  us  all. 

9.  It  does  so  not  only  by  the  fear  of  moral  penalty 
in  this  life,  but  by  the  fear  of  something  after  death. 

10.  The  constitutional  fear  of  “  something  after 
death,”  of  which  Shakspeare  and  Butler  speak,  is  a 
proof  that  there  is  something  there. 

11.  While  the  prophetic  action  of  conscience 
thus  intensifies  all  the  pains  of  conscience,  it  may 
also  intensify  all  its  blisses. 

12.  It  is  true,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  innermost 
laughter  of  the  soul  at  itself,  it  rarely  hears  more 
than  once  without  hearing  it  forever. 

13.  It  is  true,  on  the  other,  that  the  innermost  ben¬ 
ediction  of  the  soul  upon  itself,  it  rarely  hears  more 
than  once  without  hearing  it  forever. 

14.  The  innermost  laughter  and  the  innermost 
benediction  come  from  the  depth  of  conscience. 

15.  But  the  weight  of  the  word  ought  is  a  revela¬ 
tion  of  the  nature  of  things. 

16.  The  nature  of  things  is  only  another  name  for 
the  Divine  Nature. 

17.  The  laughter  of  the  soul  and  the  benediction 
of  the  soul  as  to  itself,  in  the  innermost  of  con¬ 
science,  are  the  laughter  and  benediction  of  the 
nature  of  things;  that  is,  the  benediction  and  the 
laughter  of  the  Lord.  [Applause.] 

18.  The  laughter  of  the  soul  at  itself  is  a  laughter 
from  which  it  cannot  flee. 


■X 


/ 


X. 

SHAKSPEARE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


THE  NINETIETH  LECTURE  IN  THE  BOSTON  MONDAY  LECTURE* 
SHIP,  DELIVERED  IN  TREMONT  TEMPLE,  DEC.  3. 


He  who  resolveth  to  do  every  duty,  is  immediately  conscious  of 
She  presence  of  the  gods.  —  Bacon. 

Stern  lawgiver  I  yet  thou  dost  wear 
The  Godhead’s  most  benignant  grace; 

Nor  know  we  any  thing  so  fair 
As  is  the  smile  upon  thy  face; 

Flowers  laugh  before  thee  on  their  beds, 

And  fragrance  in  thy  footing  treads ; 

Thou  dost  preserve  the  stars  from  wrong; 

And  the  most  ancient  heavens  through  thee  are  fresh  and  strong. 

Wobdswobth:  Ode  to  Duty 


X. 

SHAKSPEARE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 

PRELUDE  OX  CURRENT  EVENTS. 

Sometimes  in  ancient  Athens,  previous  to  elec¬ 
tions,  the  streets  were  swept  with  a  vermilion-col¬ 
ored  cord.  In  the  assemblies  which  Demosthenes  ad¬ 
dressed  at  the  Pynx,  no  important  law  could  be 
passed  unless  six  thousand  votes  in  its  favor  were 
deposited  in  the  urns.  To  secure  an  audience  of  the 
necessary  size,  servants  of  the  state  were  sent  through 
the  market-place  with  a  rope  chalked  red ;  and  who¬ 
ever  received  a  stain  on  his  toga,  as  that  never-loiter¬ 
ing  line,  stretched  from  side  to  side  of  the  streets, 
passed  along  the  crowded  ways,  was  fined  as  an 
enemy  of  the  state.  Charles  Sumner  often  affirmed 
that  the  citizen  who  neglects  his  political  duties  is 
a  public  enemy.  A  law  of  Pythagoras  pronounced 
every  free  man  infamous  who  in  questions  of  public 
moment  did  not  take  sides.  Compulsory  voting  was 
the  rule  in  ancient  Athens;  and  one  could  almost 
wish  that  it  were  in  modern  America.  We  should 
be  imitating  the  Athenians  if  we  were  to  double  the 
poll-tax  of  all  who  can  vote  and  do  not. 


255 


256 


CONSCIENCE. 


Athenian  scholars  like  President  Seelye  and  Presi¬ 
dent  Chadbourne  are  not  lowering  their  dignity  at 
all  by  endeavoring  to  teach  us  through  their  personal 
example  the  mission  of  the  scholar  in  politics.  [Ap¬ 
plause.]  They  take  no  partisan  stand,  but  simply  a 
patriotic  one.  Assuredly  terror  would  blanch  the 
cheeks  of  political  corruption  if  such  examples  could 
be  followed  as  widely  as  they  are  already  honored. 
Our  fathers  taught,  and  so  have  an  hundred  years  of 
American  history,  that  eternal  vigilance,  and  not 
merely  endless  grumbling  and  sour  grimace  on  the 
part  of  culture,  is  the  price  of  liberty.  How  utterly 
has  the  mood  of  scholarly  patriotism  changed  in  the 
last  fifty  or  eighty  years !  A  citizen  of  Brooklyn, 
not  long  ago,  said  to  me  that  he  supposed  that  of 
course  the  mayor  of  Boston  speaks  Latin.  In  the 
old  days  we  were  jealous  of  our  rights  on  these  three 
hills.  But  now  that  a  foreign-born  population  has 
taken  an  honored  place  at  the  ballot-box,  —  a  posi¬ 
tion  from  which  we  do  not  wish  to  drive  them  at  all, 
—  some  of  us  are  too  lofty  to  ask  any  favors  of  them 
unless  they  first  will  ask  favors  of  us  by  putting  our 
names  in  nomination.  If  the  foreign-born  vote,  if 
half-educated  suffrage,  if  that  part  of  our  population 
which  Lord  Beaconsfield  would  say  is  unfit  in  many 
particulars  for  citizenship,  will  ask  our  permission 
and  come  to  us  and  burn  sufficient  incense,  perhaps 
we  can  go  down  to  the  hustings  and  the  ballot-box, 
and  attend  to  our  duties  as  American  citizens,  at¬ 
tracted  thither  by  the  smell  of  praise.  If  culture 
cannot  rule,  then  culture  will  secede  from  politics. 


SHAKSPEARE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


257 


Class  secession  is  hardly  less  dangerous  than  geo¬ 
graphical  secession.  The  withdrawal  of  the  culti¬ 
vated  class  from  politics  may  ultimately  work  as 
much  harm  as  the  open  secession  of  our  Carolinas 
and  Georgias  from  the  Union.  [Applause.]  Class 
secession  from  politics  is  often  actuated  by  much  the 
same  thoughts  as  those  which  governed  the  geo¬ 
graphical  secession  of  States.  We  are  not  believers 
in  democracy.  We  desire  to  have  our  rights  respected 
without  defending  them.  We,  as  an  educated  and 
propertied  class,  are  by  and  by  in  a  new  organization 
of  society  in  America,  to  have  the  privileges  that 
belong  of  natural  right  to  culture  and  wealth.  There 
will  be  a  new  order  of  government  brought  into 
existence  ultimately  on  this  continent.  Give  America 
two  hundred  people  to  the  square  mile,  and  count  of 
heads  and  clack  of  tongues  will  not  keep  life  and 
property  safe  here.  Democracy  is  failing.  We  will 
not  be  in  at  its  death.  We  will  wait  until  our  great 
cities  have  suffered  enough  to  put  their  interests  into 
the  hands  of  wealth,  and  to  insist  on  a  property  qual¬ 
ification  for  the  franchise.  Already  the  whisper  of 
fleeced  municipal  tax-payers  grows  loud  in  many 
commercial  circles,  that  a  stronger  government  is 
needed  in  America  than  ever  the  many  can  exercise 
over  the  many. 

For  one,  I  believe  the  young  men  of  the  United 
States  have  as  a  mass  given  up  even  the  unexpressed 
fear  that  we  shall  abandon  Democracy.  These  feel¬ 
ings  of  some  of  the  cultured,  that  new  arrangements 
will  be  made,  are  not  shared  by  the  remnant  of  the 


258 


CONSCIENCE. 


generation  which  preserved  the  Union.  A  large  part 
of  the  young  men  of  America  who  should  now  he 
entering  on  patriotic  public  careers  are  already  in 
their  graves.  In  this  country,  my  generation  is  a 
fragment.  It  is  a  tattered  remnant  left  over  after 
battle.  We  have  already  laid  down  many  lives, 
that  men  may  have  the  right  of  franchise.  We 
have  done  something  for  the  unification  of  this 
country.  We  are  willing  to  do  more.  May  .the 
right  arms  of  the  young  men  of  America  drop  from 
their  sockets,  and  may  their  tongues  cleave  to  the 
roofs  of  their  mouths,  if  they  ever  forget  that  their 
brethren  died,  not  only  for  the  unification,  but  for  the 
purification  of  this  nation  [applause],  or  if  they  ever 
fail  to  endeavor  in  politics,  in  social  life,  in  the  pul¬ 
pit,  on  the  platform,  in  the  press,  to  sell  their  lives  as 
dearly  in  the  purification  of  America,  as  their  breth¬ 
ren  have  sold  theirs  in  its  unification.  [Applause.] 

I  thank  Providence,  that  the  young  citizens’  polit¬ 
ical  committees  are  acting  as  if  they  believe  that 
Democracy  must  try  out  its  own  problems,  and  must 
purify  the  ballot-box  to  begin  with.  We  have  com¬ 
mittees  organized  in  this  city  in  one  of  the  parties, 
and  I  wish  they  were  organized  in  both,  to  clarify 
registration-lists  ;  to  watch  ballot-boxes ;  to  see  to  it 
that  the  press  is  prompted  occasionally  in  the  proper 
direction;  and,  above  all,  to  inspirit  public  senti¬ 
ment,  by  throwing  the  power  of  the  parlor  and  the 
platform  and  the  pulpit  at  the  right  moments  toward 
the  just  side,  when  make- weights  are  of  commanding 
consequence  in  closely-contested  elections.  There  are 


SHAKSPEARE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


259 


in  this  city  no  peculiar  corruptions.  Undoubtedly 
Boston  politics  are  better  than  those  of  New  York  or 
Chicago,  on  the  whole  ;  but  that  would  not  be  saying 
any  thing  greatly  to  our  praise.  There  are,  however, 
in  this  city,  young  men’s  committees  on  the  watch ; 
and  it  turns  out,  as  a  practical  result,  that  an  immi¬ 
grant  cannot  be  made  a  voter  now  unless  he  is  per¬ 
sonally  present  before  the  recording  officers  to  take 
the  oath  and  to  sign  the  declaration  that  he  becomes 
a  citizen.  There  are  young  men’s  committees  on  the 
watch ;  and  every  ballot-box  in  this  city  will  be  man¬ 
aged  according  to  law,  if  the  young  men  have  their 
way;  and  if  they  do  not  have  their  way,  and  the 
boxes  are  not  thus  managed,  the  young  men,  aided 
by  persons  older  than  they,  —  wisdom  with  the  aged, 
action  with  the  young,  —  mean  to  prosecute  every 
case  of  violation  of  law  to  conviction.  [Applause.] 
There  have  been  many  shrewd  arrangements  made 
here,  as  elsewhere,  for  the  violation  of  law  at  the 
ballot-boxes ;  but  either  these  arrangements  will  be 
defeated,  or  somebody  will  suffer  if  they  are  carried 
out. 

In  one  of  the  largest  cities  of  the  West  an  election 
committee  announced,  not  long  ago,  that  the  day 
has  gone  by  when  it  can  be  expected  that  the  culti¬ 
vated  class  in  our  great  towns  will  take  any  active 
part  in  politics.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  was  in  a 
pulpit  in  that  city,  but  who  now,  thank  God !  is 
a  minister  in  New  England,  and  who  never  preached 
politics  in  the  pulpit,  went  down  to  the  ballot-boxes 
of  a  corrupt  ward,  and  challenged  votes  on  several 


260 


CONSCIENCE. 


different  occasions,  and  did  so  all  alone.  The  op¬ 
posing  party  put  three  or  four  roughs  near  him.  Al¬ 
though  they  did  not  attack  him  physically,  they  filled 
the  day  with  profanity  and  obscenity,  and  endeav¬ 
ored  to  drive  away  all  decent  men  by  their  Harpy 
clamor.  The  scholar  held  his  place,  threatened  pros¬ 
ecution  against  lax  officers  behind  the  ballot-boxes, 
and  the  result  was  that  a  dark  ward  was  illuminated, 
if  not  by  noon,  at  least  by  twilight,  and  many  a  wild 
beast  of  politics  ran  to  his  den.  [Applause.]  From 
that  single  example  it  became,  in  several  wards  of 
that  city,  the  fashion  for  cultivated  men  to  go  down 
and  challenge  roughs  at  the  polls.  Many  Englishmen 
like  to  do  this. 

John  Bright  says  that  he  will  not  vote  for  a  wider 
extension  of  the  franchise  in  Great  Britain,  than  is 
in  existence  there,  because  political  absenteeism 
ruins  a  good  cause  every  now  and  then.  If  we 
could  have  political  absenteeism  throttled,  one  feels 
almost  sure  that  this  sea  of  unrest  in  which  many  of 
us  swim,  this  feeling  that  the  universal  franchise  of 
America  is  to  ruin  her,  would  subside  at  last.  The 
secession  of  culture  from  primary  political  meetings, 
and  from  the  post  of  Argus  at  the  ballot-box,  is  to  be 
judged  by  its  fruits.  We  are  to  assert  our  rights,  or 
have  none.  We  are  to  occupy  our  privileges,  or 
find  them,  little  by  little,  curtailed.  Even  if  you 
could  do  but  little  at  the  polls,  you  might  do  much 
at  the  primary  meetings.  Even  if  you  could  do 
little  in  the  latter  places,  you  might  do  much  by 
Inspiriting  young  men  who  have  time  for  the  work, 


SHAKSPEARE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


261 


fco  attend  to  the  patriotic  duties  of  unmasking 
fraud. 

Lord  Bacon  affirms  that  the  best  materials  for 
political  prophecy  are  the  unforced  opinions  of  young 
men.  In  this  Commonwealth,  when  Charles  Sumner 
and  Henry  Wilson  were  beginning  their  career,  the 
use  of  that  Baconian  method  of  forecast  might  have 
been  profitable  to  both  the  timid  friends  and  the 
haughty  opponents  of  just  reform.  If  the  young 
men  of  America  enforce  the  suffrage  laws,  they  will 
have  the  sound  part  of  the  press  of  every  political 
party  on  their  side.  Let  them  use  their  opportu¬ 
nities  resolutely,  and  politics  —  which  are  only  a 
weather-vane  —  will  show  which  way  the  wind 
blows.  The  American  people  are  iEolus’  cave.  If 
in  the  national  sea  the  political  ship  rots  in  calms, 
or  sails  in  the  wrong  direction,  the  fault  is  not  as 
much  with  the  pirates  on  board  as  with  iEolus,  who 
'might  awaken  hurricanes  in  his  mountain,  and  send 
them  forth  to  make  JEneas  pray  as  he  never  did  of 
old  when  he  had  lately  left  Dido,  or  when  the  jealous 
Juno  shook  the  Trojan  fleet. 

THE  LECTURE. 

Whom  does  Shakspeare  make  us  admire?  An 
author  is  what  he  causes  us  to  love.  Do  we  find  our¬ 
selves  retaining  to  the  end  our  respect  for  Falstaff? 
Ilenry  V.,  who  had  toyed  with  vice  in  Falstaff  s  com¬ 
pany.  rejects  the  gray-haired  lecher  after  becoming 
king. 


262 


CONSCIENCE. 


“  The  King  to  Falslaff.  I  know  thee  not,  old  man;  fall  to  thy 
prayers ; 

How  ill  white  hairs  become  a  fool  and  jester! 

I  have  long  dreamed  of  such  a  kind  of  man, 

So  surfeit-swelled,  so  old  and  so  profane ; 

But  being  awaked,  I  do  despise  my  dream. 

Make  less  thy  body  hence,  and  more  thy  grace. 

•  ••••••• 

Reply  not  to  me  with  a  fool-born  jest ; 

Presume  not  that  I  am  the  thing  I  was, 

For  Heaven  doth  know,  so  shall  the  world  perceive, 

That  I  have  turned  away  my  former  self ; 

So  will  I  those  that  kept  me  company. 

•  •••••••• 

I  banish  thee  on  pain  of  death. 

As  I  have  done  the  rest  of  my  misleaders, 

Not  to  come  near  our  person  by  ten  mile.” 

2  King  Henry  IV.,  act  v.  sc.  5. 

Although  Falstaff  is  pictured  in  detail,  Shak> 
speare  plainly  intends  that  we  shall  not  permanently 
admire  him.  In  the  end  he  crushes  even  our  animal 
regard  for  Sir  John  by  making  him  die  a  loathsome 
death.  “Let  thy  blood  be  thy  direction  till  thy 
death !  ”  says  Shakspeare :  “  then  if  she  that  lays 
thee  out  says  thou  art  a  fair  corse,  I’ll  be  sworn, 
and  sworn  upon  it,  she  never  shrouded  any  but 
lazars.”  QTroilus  and  Cressida ,  act  ii.  sc.  3.)  Do 
we  love  Iago  ?  Shakspeare  pictures  him,  too,  in 
great  detail ;  but  on  the  whole  our  feeling  in  his 
presence  is  that  which  comes  to  us  when  we  look 
into  a  serpent’s  eye. 

There  are  roisterers  and  feather-heads  reflected 
in  the  lower  half  of  Shakspeare’s  mirror ;  but  if  you 


SHAKSPEARE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


263 


will  fathom  your  own  experience  with  this  writer, 
you  will  find  that  it  is  not  the  lower,  but  the  upper 
half  of  his  far-spread  and  astoundingly  faithful  glass, 
that  captures  you  permanently.  I  am  not,  perhaps, 
advanced  enough  in  life  to  understand  Shakspeare ; 
it  is  said  that  no  man  under  forty  can  read  Shak¬ 
speare  ;  but,  as  I  grow  older,  I  am  more  and  more 
attracted  to  the  upper  half,  or,  I  may  say,  to  the 
upper  quarter,  of  his  mirror.  He  holds  up  the  pic¬ 
turing  glass  to  all  that  is ;  and  undoubtedly,  in  a 
full  representation  of  human  nature,  especially  as  it 
was  forced  on  Shakspeare’s  attention  in  a  roistering 
court  and  in  the  life  of  the  London  of  the  days  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  there  will  be  blotches  in  the  lower 
half  of  the  reflecting  glass.  But  the .  final  impres¬ 
sion  Shakspeare  seems  to  make  is  that  the  upper 
half  of  the  mirror  was  himself.  He  dwells  in  his 
advanced  years  more  upon  the  Unseen,  upon  the 
moral  law,  upon  the  great  characters  of  his  tragedies, 
and  less  and  less,  except  as  a  foil,  upon  the  lower 
traits  and  the  coarser  in  human  nature. 

Indeed,  if  I  were  to  select  out  of  all  Shakspeare’s 
characters  the  one  person  whom  he  most  resembles, 
I  should  take  Henry  V.  That  soul  was  equipped 
for  peace  or  war,  for  sport  or  earnest,  for  the  light 
things  of  the  day  of  harmless  play,  or  the  stern 
things  of  loud  resounding  contest.  And  he  grew 
better,  Henry  V.  did,  as  he  grew  older.  It  is  true 
he  had  been  a  companion  of  Falstaff ;  no  doubt  his 
youth  had  many  things  in  it  which  he  deserved  to 
regret ,  but  he  grows  as  his  years  advance,  and  when 


264 


CONSCIENCE. 


kingship  comes  to  him,  he  is  a  hero,  one  of  the  most 
full-orbed  of  all  the  characters  delineated  on  Shak¬ 
speare ’s  canvas.  Hamlet  ?  He  was  like  Shakspeare 
in  several  very  great  things,  but  he  did  not  love  ac¬ 
tion.  He  was  almost  insanely  dilatory  in  cases  of 
the  highest  importance ;  but  Shakspeare  had  decis¬ 
ion  as  well  as  gentleness.  A  not  unsuccessful  prac¬ 
tical  activity,  we  know,  filled  a  considerable  part  of 
his  life.  For  the  benefit  of  a  softer  and  less  stren¬ 
uous  age  than  his  own,  and  almost  as  if  the  false 
standards  of  the  school  of  Crenialitat  in  literature 
were  foreseen  by  him,  he  drew  in  Hamlet,  I  think, 
a  balanced  criticism  of  high  intellectual  power  and 
subtle  intensities  of  emotion  not  conjoined  with  suffi¬ 
cient  executive  capacity. 

Shakspeare  knew  better  and  better,  as  he  grew 
older,  what  Kant  affirmed  in  his  last  years,  that  the 
best  melody  of  the  harp  never  is  obtained  until  the 
chords  are  stretched  tightly,  and  the  plectrum  with 
which  the  resonant  wires  are  struck  is  made  firm. 
Madame  de  Stael  says  of  Schiller,  that  his  Muse  was 
Conscience.  His  poetry  has  several  of  its  high  crys¬ 
talline  fountain-springs  in  the  heights  of  Kant’s  phi¬ 
losophy.  But  even  Schiller  once  complained  that 
Kant’s  system  of  ethics  occasionally  takes  on  the 
aspect  of  a  repulsive,  hard,  imperative  morality,  and 
is  not  attractive.  Kant  replied  that  the  two  objects 
cf  moral  training  are  to  give  “  hardihood  ”  in  the  ap¬ 
plication  of  conscience  to  the  motives,  and  “glad¬ 
ness”  in  prompt  and  full  obedience  to  the  moral 
sense.  (. Metaphysics  of  Ethics ,  edition  by  Semple.) 


SHAKSPEARE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


265 


Hardihood !  That  is  the  stretching  of  the  chord 
tautly  in  the  harp.  Hardihood !  That  is  the  firm¬ 
ness  of  the  plectrum  which  smites  the  chord.  Hardi¬ 
hood  !  That  is  the  first  object  of  moral  training. 
Gladness  is  the  second,  but  that  is  only  the  music 
derived  from  the  tightly-stretched  chord  and  the 
firm  plectrum.  More  and  more,  as  Shakspeare 
grew  older,  he  tightened  the  moral  strands  in  the 
colossally  wide  harp  of  his  nature,  and  the  stretched 
chords  he  struck  with  firm  plectra,  and  their  far- 
resonant  upper  notes  at  last  are  harmonious  with 
the  deep  bass  of  the  moral  law  in  the  nature  of 
things.  That  is  Shakspeare.  [Applause.]  Here  is 
the  last  tone  shed  from  Shakspeare’s  harp  within 
the  hearing  of  this  world :  “  I  commend  my  soul 
into  the  hands  of  God,  my  Creator,  hoping,  and  as¬ 
suredly  believing,  through  the  only  merits  of  Jesus 
Christ  my  Saviour,  to  be  made  partaker  of  life  ever¬ 
lasting.”  {Shakspeare’ s  Will.') 

Undoubtedly  he  was  an  American  in  his  youth. 
He  thought  that  good  music  could  be  produced  by 
leaving  the  chords  in  delightfully  uncertain  positions. 
A  firm  plectrum  !  Why,  no ;  it  would  not  be  liberal 
to  make  the  plectrum  solid !  It  would  not  be  in  har¬ 
mony  with  advanced  thought  to  tighten  the  chords ! 
Hardihood !  Why,  the  very  word  is  odious  to  luxu¬ 
rious  liberalism !  Hardihood !  Schiller  protests 
against  Kant,  when  he  misunderstands  him,  not 
knowing  that  hardihood  is  the  mother  of  gladness 
in  the  harp. 

Shakspeare  in  his  youth,  no  doubt,  married  toe 


266 


CONSCIENCE. 


early,  and  yet  none  too  early ;  and  to  this  keen,  self 
imposed  curse  he  has  himself  again  and  again  made 
allusion.  I  beg  your  pardon ;  you  must  meditate  in 
secret  oyer  these  stains  of  blood  in  Shakspeare’s  'writ¬ 
ings.  Do  you  remember  that  he  says  that  on  cer¬ 
tain  conditions  heaven  will  bless  a  marriage,  and  on 
certain  other  conditions  will  not?  Perhaps  Henry 
V.  did  not  perceive  the  kingship  that  was  before  him. 
Undoubtedly  Shakspeare,  who  for  a  hundred  years 
after  his  death  was  not  widely  worshipped,  did  not 
understand  what  kingship  was  awaiting  him.  As 
Henry  V.  strengthened  himself  the  moment  he  be¬ 
came  king,  so  Shakspeare  would  have  done  if  he  could 
have  seen  in  advance  the  enduring  responsibilities  of 
the  regnancy  which  literature  was  providing  for  him. 
But,  had  he  foreseen  this,  he  could  not  have  tightened 
more  strenuously  than  he  did  one  chord  in  his  harp. 

If  the  fact,  without  the  form,  of  marriage,  exists 
before 

“  All  sanctimonious  ceremonies  may 
With  full  and  holy  rite  be  ministered, 

No  sweet  aspersion  shall  the  heavens  let  fall 
To  make  this  contract  grow ;  but  barren  hate, 

Sour-eyed  disdain  and  discord,  shall  bestrew 
The  union  of  your  bed  with  weeds  so  loathly 
That  you  shall  hate  it  both ;  therefore  take  heed 
As  Hymen’s  lamps  shall  light  you.” 

Tempest ,  act  iv.  sc.  1. 

See  Winter’s  Tale,  act  i.,  line  278,  “  before  her  troth-plight.” 
Also,  White’s  Shakspeare,  vol.  i.  pp.  xxix.-xxxvi. 

Shakspeare  did  not  know  through  how  many  hun¬ 
dreds  of  years  these  words  would  be  read  over  his 


SHAKSPEABE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


267 


tomb  in  Stratford-on-Avon,  and  how  many  times 
they  would  recall  the  crime  of  a  woman  eight  years 
older  than  he,  and  his  own  infamy ;  but  he  would 
not  have  erased  them,  could  he  have  foreseen  all. 

When  men  in  our  day  strike  the  lower  chords  of 
their  nature  loosely;  when  we  are  taught  by  ad¬ 
vanced  materialists  that  we  are  not  responsible,  what¬ 
ever  we  do ;  when  Hackel  asserts  that  the  will  is 
never  free ;  when  a  professor,  possessed  of  excellent 
literary  capacity,  and  reverenced  throughout  the  civil¬ 
ized  world  as  a  leader  in  physical  science,  stands  up 
and  maintains,  as  Tyndall  did  at  Birmingham  lately, 
in  so  many  words,  that  “  the  robber,  the  ravisher,  and 
the  murderer  offend  because  they  cannot  help  offend¬ 
ing,”  then  I  like  to  look  across  that  green  shield,  sir 
[turning  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Rainsford],  called  England, 
circled  by  the  azure  deep,  and  to  remember  that 
Birmingham  and  Stratford-on-Avon  lie  not  far  apart, 
as  bosses  on  that  buckler  of  the  world’s  good  sense. 
Lord  Bacon  said  that  he  wished  a  science  of  the 
human  passions  could  be  elaborated.  Gervinus,  the 
best  German  commentator  on  Shakspeare,  affirmed 
that  if  Bacon  had  turned  to  his  neighbor  William  he 
might  have  had  such  a  science,  and  that  one  to-day 
might  be  constructed  from  his  works.  Tyndall  stands 
at  Birmingham,  and  proclaims,  as  Hackel  has  taught, 
that  the  science  of  the  human  passions  must  include 
the  assertion  that  the  will  is  never  free.  Lord  Bacon, 
I  think,  feels  uneasy  on  his  pedestal  at  such  science. 
At  any  rate,  Gervinus  on  the  Rhine,  in  his  tomb, 
whispers  yet  to  civilization,  that  William  Shakspeare 


268 


CONSCIENCE. 


Bacon’s  contemporary,  will  teach  us  the  true  theory 
of  the  passions.  When  Tyndall  utters  at  Birming¬ 
ham  his  famous  assertion  that  the  robber,  the  rav- 
isher,  the  murderer,  offend  because  they  cannot  help 
offending,  I  turn  to  this  grave  at  Stratford-on-Avon, 
—  the  grave  of  an  honest  man ;  for  we  have  seen  the 
epitaph  its  occupant  has  put  upon  himself,  and  how 
little  he  excused  any  of  his  own  misdeeds,  —  and  I 
listen.  I  hear  words,  three  hundred  years  old,  indeed  ; 
but  I  recommend  them,  in  spite  of  their  antiquity,  as 
a  motto  for  Tyndall’s  address  :  — 

“  This  is  the  excellent  foppery  of  the  world,  that, 
when  we  are  sick  in  fortune,  —  often  the  surfeit  of 
our  own  behavior,  —  we  make  guilty  of  our  disasters 
the  sun,  the  moon  and  stars ;  as  if  we  were  villains 
by  necessity.”  [Applause.]  Professor  Tyndall  hears 
that  at  Birmingham?  “Fools  by  heavenly  compul¬ 
sion  ;  knaves,  thieves,  and  treachers,  by  spherical  pre¬ 
dominance  ;  drunkards,  liars,  and  adulterers,  by  an 
enforced  obedience  of  planetary  influence ;  and  all 
that  we  are  evil  in,  by  a  divine  thrusting  on.”  Does 
Tyndall  listen  ?  “  An  admirable  evasion  of  abomi¬ 

nable  man,  to  lay  his  goatish  disposition  to  the  charge 
of  a  star !  My  nativity  was  under  Ursa  Major ;  so 
that  it  follows  that  I  am  rough.  Tut !  I  should  have 
been  that  I  am,  had  the  maidenliest  star  in  the  firma- 
nent  twinkled  on  my  birth.”  [Applause.]  ( King 
Lear,  act  i.  sc.  2.) 

But  it  is  impossible  to  condense  a  tithe  of  what 
ought  to  be  said  concerning  Shakspeare’s  views  on 
conscience,  into  the  hand’s-breadth  of  time  allowed 


SHAKSPEARE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


269 


me  here.  Let  me  notice  the  leading  questions  to 
which  he  gives  answers,  although  I  cannot  recite  all 
the  replies. 

1.  Whom  does  Shakspeare  make  us  admire  ? 

2.  Whom  does  he  make  responsible  for  sin  ? 

3.  Does  Shakspeare  make  the  word  ought  heavier 
than  any  other  syllable  ? 

4.  Does  Shakspeare  teach  that  there  is  a  God  in 
conscience  ? 

5.  Does  he  give  conscience  a  prophetic  office  ? 

6.  Does  Shakspeare  make  judicial  blindness  one 
of  the  inevitable  penalties  of  the  suppression  of 
light  ? 

7.  May  conscience,  in  the  opinion  of  Shakspeare, 
make  cowards  of  us  all? 

8.  How,  according  to  this  poet,  does  conscience 
color  the  external  world  ? 

9.  Does  Shakspeare  admit  that  conscience  may 
cease  to  exist  or  to  act  in  the  incorrigibly  evil  ? 

10.  What,  according  to  Shakspeare,  are  some  of 
the  physical  effects  of  conscience  ? 

11.  Does  he  teach  that  conscience  may  produce 
despair  ? 

12.  Is  Shakspeare  supported  in  his  conclusions  by 
other  poets  ? 

As  one  would  touch  the  multiplex  array  of  banks 
of  organ-keys  at  random  to  test  the  tones  of  some 
mighty  instrument,  so  I  open  a  copy  of  Shakspeare 
ut  random,  with  no  partisan  plea  to  make.  What 
massive  and  overawing  tones  are  these  first  ones 
I  happen  to  strike !  — 


270 


CONSCIENCE. 


“In  the  great  hand  of  God  I  stand.” 

Why  ?  Because  I  am  following  my  conscience  in 
opposing  a  bloody  tyrant. 

“  And  thence 

Against  the  undivulged  pretence  I  fight 
Of  treasonous  malice.” 

Macbeth ,  act  ii.  sc.  3. 

But  here  is  a  contrasted  tone  strangely  deep :  — 

“What  do  I  fear?  myself  ?  There’s  none  else  by; 
Richard  loves  Richard;  that  is,  I  am  I. 

Is  there  a  murderer  here  ?  No ;  yes,  I  am ; 

Then  fly.  What,  from  myself ?  Great  reason;  why? 
Lest  I  revenge.  What  ?  Myself  upon  myself  ? 

Alack  !  I  love  myself.  Wherefore  ?  for  any  good 
That  I  myself  have  done  unto  myself  ? 

Oh,  no !  alas !  I  rather  hate  myself, 

For  hateful  deeds  committed  by  myself.” 

King  Richard  III.,  act  v.  sc.  3. 

“  The  weariest  and  most  loathed  worldly  life 
That  age,  ache,  penury,  and  imprisonment 
Can  lay  on  nature,  is  a  paradise 
To  what  we  fear  of  death.” 

Measure  for  Measure ,  act  iii.  sc.  1. 

“  The  dread  of  something  after  death 

.  .  .  puzzles  the  will. 

Thus  conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all.” 

Hamlet,  act  iii.  sc.  1. 

“  Conscience  is  a  thousand  swords.”  * 

King  Richard  III.,  act  v.  sc.  2. 

Strike  the  peaceful,  cheering,  mysteriously  com 
manding  notes  once  more  :  — 


SHAKSPEARE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


271 


“What  stronger  breastplate  than  a  heart  untainted? 
Thrice  is  he  armed  that  hath  his  quarrel  just, 

And  he  but  naked,  though  locked  up  in  steel, 

Whose  conscience  with  injustice  is  corrupted.” 

2  King  Henry  VI .,  act  iii.  sc.  2. 

“Be  just,  and  fear  not. 

Let  all  the  ends  thou  ciim’st  at  be  thy  country’s, 

Thy  God’s,  and  truth’s ;  then,  if  thou  fall’st,  O  Cromwell, 
Thou  fall’st  a  blessed  martyr.” 

King  Henry  VIII.,  act  iii.  sc.  2. 

“  Now,  for  our  consciences,  the  arms  are  fair, 

When  the  intent  of  bearing  them  is  just.” 

King  Henry  IV.  sc.  3. 

“  My  wooing  mind  shall  be  expressed 
In  russet  yeas  and  honest  kersey  noes.” 

Love's  Labor  Lost ,  act  v.  sc.  2. 

“That  which  you  speak  is  in  your  conscience  washed.” 

King  Henry  V.,  act  i.  sc.  2. 

“  What  motive  may 

Be  stronger  with  thee  than  the  name  of  wife  ? 

That  which  upholdeth  him  that  thee  upholds,  — 

His  honor :  oh,  thine  honor,  Lewis,  thine  honor.” 

King  John ,  act  iii.  sc.  1. 

“  A  peace  above  all  earthly  dignities, 

A  still  and  quiet  conscience.” 

Henry  VIII.,  act  iii.  sc.  2. 

Strike  the  contrasted  notes  again :  — 

“  First  Murderer.  —  So  when  he  opens  his  purse  to  give  us  oui 
reward,  thy  conscience  flies  out. 

Second  Murderer.  —  Let  it  go ;  there’s  few  or  none  will  en¬ 
tertain  it. 

First  Murderer.  — How  if  it  come  to  thee  again  ? 

Second  Murderer.  —  I’ll  not  meddle  with  it.  It  is  a  danger¬ 
ous  thing.  It  makes  a  man  a  coward.  A  man  cannot  steal,  but 


272 


CONSCIENCE. 


it  accuseth  him ;  he  cannot  swear,  but  it  checks  him ;  tis  a 
blushing,  shamefaced  spirit  that  mutinies  in  a  man’s  bosom  ;  it 
fills  one  full  of  obstacles ;  it  made  me  once  restore  a  purse  ot 
gold  that  I  found;  it  beggars  any  man  that  keeps  it;  it  is 
turned  out  of  all  towns  and  cities  for  a  dangerous  thing. 

First  Murderer.  —  Zounds,  it  is  even  now  at  my  elbow.” 

King  Richard  III.,  act  i.  sc.  4. 

“  My  conscience,  hanging  about  the  neck  of  my  heart,  says  very 
wisely  to  me,  1  Budge  not.’  —  ‘  Budge,’  says  the  fiend.  ‘  Budge 
not,’  says  my  conscience.” 

Merchant  of  Venice,  act  ii.  sc.  2. 

“  I,  I  myself,  sometimes,  leaving  the  fear  of  God  on  the  left 
hand  and  hiding  mine  honor  in  my  necessity,  am  fain  to  shuf¬ 
fle,  to  hedge,  and  to  lurch.” 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  act  ii.  sc.  2. 

“  Put  up  thy  sword,  traitor, 

Who  mak’st  a  show,  but  durst  not  strike,  thy  conscience 
Is  so  possessed  with  guilt.  Come  from  thy  ward, 

For  I  can  here  disarm  thee  with  this  stick, 

And  make  thy  weapon  drop.” 

Tempest,  act  i.  sc.  2. 

“  O  heaven,  put  in  every  honest  hand  a  whip 
To  lash  the  rascals  naked  through  the  world.” 

Othello,  act  iv.  sc.  2. 

“  The  color  of  the  king  doth  come  and  go 
Betwixt  his  purpose  and  his  conscience 
Like  heralds  ’twixt  two  dreadful  battles  set. 

His  passion  is  so  ripe,  it  needs  must  break.” 

King  John,  act  iv.  sc.  2. 

“  The  grand  conspirator. 

With  clog  of  conscience  and  sour  melancholy 
Hath  yielded  up  his  body  to  the  grave.  .  .  . 

The  guilt  of  conscience  take  thou  for  thy  labor, 

With  Cain  go  wander  through  the  shades  of  night.” 

King  Richard  II.,  act  v.  sc.  2 


SHAKSPEARE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


273 


“  The  worm  of  conscience  still  begnaw  thy  soul.” 

King  Richard  III.,  act  i.  sc.  3. 

I  open  the  book  again,  and  hear  Shakspeare  answer 
the  question  whether  blindness  sent  as  a  judgment 
results  from  the  suppression  of  light.  Lady  Macbeth 
says,  — 

“  The  raven  himself  is  hoarse 
That  croaks  the  fatal  entrance  of  Duncan 
Under  my  battlements.  Come,  you  spirits 
That  tend  on  mortal  thoughts,  unsex  me  here, 

And  fill  me  from  the  crown  to  the  toe  top-full 
Of  direst  cruelty  !  make  thick  my  blood ; 

Stop  up  the  access  and  passage  to  remorse, 

That  no  compunctious  visitings  of  nature 
Shake  my  fell  purpose,  nor  keep  peace  between 
The  effect  and  it !  Come  to  my  woman’s  breasts, 

And  take  my  milk  for  gall,  you  murdering  ministers, 

Wherever  in  your  sightless  substances 

You  wait  on  nature’s  mischief  !  Come,  thick  night, 

And  pall  thee  in  the  dunnest  smoke  of  hell, 

That  my  keen  knife  see  not  the  wound  it  makes, 

Nor  heaven  peep  through  the  blanket  of  the  dark 
To  cry,  ‘  Hold,  hold  !  ’  ” 

Macbeth,  act  i.  sc.  4. 

The  prayer  was  answered.  Never,  since  it  was 
written  in  the  Bhagvat  Gheeta  that  “  repeated  sin 
impairs  the  judgment,”  and  that  “  he  whose  judg¬ 
ment  is  impaired  sins  repeatedly ;  ”  never,  since  the 
Spanish  proverb  was  invented  that  “  every  man  is 
the  son  of  his  own  deeds,”  —  lias  the  law  of  judicial 
blindness  been  proclaimed  with  such  sublimity  as  in 
this  utterly  unpartisan  and  secular  passage.  Mao- 
beth  himself,  under  similar  circumstances,  says :  — 


274 


CONSCIENCE. 


.....  “  Come,  seeling  night, 

Cancel  and  tear  to  pieces  that  great  bond 

Which  keeps  me  pale !  Light  thickens  ;  and  the  crow 

Makes  wing  to  the  rooky  wood.” 

Macbeth,  act  iii.  sc.  2= 

A  fiend  in  human  form  in  Titus  Andronicus  has 
made  evil  his  good :  — 

“  Lucius.  —  Set  him  breast-deep  in  earth,  and  famish  him. 
There  let  him  stand  and  rave,  and  cry  for  food. 

Aaron,  —  I  am  no  baby,  I,  that  with  base  prayers 
I  should  repent  the  evils  I  have  done ; 

Ten  thousand  worse  than  ever  yet  I  did 
Would  I  perform  if  I  might  have  my  will. 

If  one  good  deed  in  all  my  life  I  did, 

I  do  repent  it  from  my  very  soul.” 

Titus  Andronicus,  act  v.  sc.  3. 

Elsewhere  Shakspeare  affirms  most  definitely  that 
it  is  a  pervasive  natural  law  that,  — 

“  When  we  in  our  viciousness  grow  hard, 

(O  misery  on’t !  )  the  wise  gods  seel  our  eyes  ; 

In  our  own  filth  drop  our  clear  judgments,  make  us 
Adore  our  errors ;  laugh  at  us,  while  we  strut 
To  our  confusion.” 

Antony  and  Cleopatra,  act  iii.  sc.  13. 

Is  there  a  God  in  conscience  ? 

“  Methinks  in  thee  some  blessed  spirit  doth  speak 
His  powerful  sound  within  an  organ  weak.” 

All's  Well  That  Ends  Well,  act  ii.  sc.  1. 

u  I  hold  you  as  a  thing  ensky’d  and  sainted, 

By  your  renouncement  an  immortal  spirit, 

And  to  be  talked  with  in  sincerity, 

As  with  a  saint !  ” 

Measure  for  Measure ,  act  i.,  sc.  3. 


SHAKSPEAKE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


275 


When  Shakspeare  is  called  on  to  paint  despair,  he 
makes  the  elements  themselves  draw  the  picture. 

“  Oh,  it  is  monstrous,  monstrous  I 
Methought  the  billows  spoke  and  told  me  of  it : 

The  winds  did  sing  it  to  me,  and  the  thunder, 

That  deep  and  dreadful  organ-pipe,  pronounced 
The  name  of  Prosper:  it  did  bass  my  trespass.” 

Tempest ,  act  iii.  sc.  3. 

You  know  Arthur  was  about  to  he  murdered,  and 
that  Hubert  was  suspected  of  the  murder ;  and  when 
there  is  a  confronting  of  that  crime  with  the  light  of 
conscience,  Shakspeare  makes  one  of  his  characters 

say,  — - 

“  Beyond  the  infinite  and  boundless  reach 
Of  mercy,  if  thou  didst  this  deed  of  death, 

Art  thou  damned,  Hubert.” 

Really,  I  beg  pardon  for  reading  this  in  Boston, 
and  so  near  Indian  Orchard.  [Laughter.] 

“  If  thou  didst  but  consent 
To  this  most  cruel  act,  do  but  despair ; 

And  if  thou  want’st  a  cord,  the  smallest  thread 
That  ever  spider  twisted  from  her  womb 
Will  serve  to  strangle  thee  ;  a  rush  will  be  a  beam 
To  hang  thee  on  ;  or,  wouldst  thou  drown  thyself, 

Put  but  a  little  water  in  a  spoon, 

And  it  shall  be  as  all  the  ocean, 

Enough  to  stifle  such  a  villain  up.” 

King  John ,  act  iv.  sc.  i. 

This  serious  observer  represents  ruin  as  possible  to 

man :  — 


276 


CONSCIENCE. 


“  Oh,  she  is  fallen 
Into  a  pit  of  ink,  that  the  wide  sea- 
Hath  drops  too  few  to  wash  her  clean  again; 

And  salt  too  little  which  may  season  give 
To  her  foul-tainted  flesh.” 

Much  Ado  About  Nothing ,  act  iv.  sc.  i. 

% 

Shakspeare  is  nowhere  a  partisan.  He  lived  be* 
tween  two  conflicting  currents,  men  that  were  some¬ 
times  called  fanatics,  but  who  have  founded  New 
England,  —  quite  a  piece  of  work  in  the  world,  — 
and  the  rough,  roistering  circles  of  the  court. 
Shakspeare  was  no  fanatic,  but  he  was  no  roisterer. 
In  few  words,  he  sums  up,  in  a  passage  more  terrific, 
probably,  than  any  other  in  his  dramas,  the  whole 
effect,  mental  and  physical,  of  an  upbraiding  con¬ 
science.  How  does  this  man,  speaking  to  roisterers 
in  his  own  audience,  and  writing  under  the  fear  that 
he  was  to  be  called  illiberal,  and  sneered  at  for 
sympathizing  with  fanatics,  —  how  does  this  man,  to 
whom  human  nature  lay  open,  draw  the  picture  of  a 
soul  accusing  itself  ? 

“  Macbeth.  One  cried,  ‘  God  bless  us  !  *  and  ‘  Amen/  the 
other : 

As  they  had  seen  me  with  these  hangman’s  hands, 

Listening  their  fear,  I  could  not  say  ‘  Amen/ 

When  they  did  say,  ‘  God  bless  us.’  ” 

What  are  the  physical  effects  of  an  outraged  mora^. 
sense  ?  Shakspeare  has  answered. 

“  Lady  Macbeth.  Consider  it  not  so  deeply. 

Macbeth.  But  wherefore  could  not  I  pronounce  ‘  Amen  *  ? 

I  had  most  need  of  blessing,  and  ‘  Amen  * 


SHAKSPEAKE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


277 


Stuck  in  my  throat. 

Lady  Macbeth.  These  deeds  must  not  be  thought 
After  these  ways  :  so  it  will  make  us  mad. 

Macbeth.  Methought  I  heard  a  voice  cry,  ‘  Sleep  no  more  ! 
Macbeth  does  murder  sleep ;  ’  the  innocent  sleep  : 

Sleep,  that  knits  up  the  ravelled  sleeve  of  care, 

The  death  of  each  day’s  life,  sore  labor’s  bath, 

Balm  of  hurt  minds,  great  nature’s  second  course  ; 

Chief  nourisher  in  life’s  feast. 

Lady  Macbeth.  What  do  you  mean  ? 

Macbeth.  Still  it  cried,  ‘  Sleep  no  more  !  ’  to  all  the  house : 

•  Glamis  hath  murdered  sleep,  and  therefore  Cawdor 
Shall  sleep  no  more  ;  Macbeth  shall  sleep  no  more.’ 

Lady  Macbeth.  Who  was  it  that  thus  cried?  Why,  worthy 
thane, 

You  do  unbend  your  noble  strength,  to  think 
So  brain-sickly  of  things.  Go  get  some  water, 

And  wash  this  filthy  witness  from  your  hand. 

Why  did  you  bring  these  daggers  from  the  place  ? 

They  must  be  there.  Go  carry  them ;  and  smear 
The  sleepy  grooms  with  blood. 

Macbeth.  I’ll  go  no  more  ; 

I  am  afraid  *<)  think  what  L  have  done: 

Look  on’t  again,  I  dare  not. 

Lady  Macbeth.  Infirm  of  purpose ! 

Give  me  the  daggers  :  the  sleeping  and  the  dead 
Are  but  as  pictures  ;  ’tis  the  eye  of  childhood 
That  fears  a  painted  devil.  If  he  do  bleed 
I’ll  gild  the  faces  of  the  grooms  withal ; 

For  it  must  seem  their  guilt. 

Exit.  LLnocking  within* 
Macbeth.  Whence  is  that  knocking? 

How  is’t  with  me  when  every  noise  appalls  me  ? 

What  hands  are  here  ?  Ha  !  they  pluck  out  my  eyes. 

Will  all  great  Neptune’s  ocean  wash  this  blood 
Clean  from  my  hand  ?  No ;  this  my  hand  will  rather 
The  multitudinous  seas  incarnadine, 

Making  the  green  one  red.” 


Macbeth ,  act  ii.  ec.  2. 


278 


CONSCIENCE. 


But  if  Macbeth  had  read  Professor  Tyndall’s  speech 
at  Birmingham,  undoubtedly  advanced  thought  would 
have  washed  the  murderer’s  red  right  hand. 

To  summarize  all  that  Shakspeare  has  said,  there¬ 
fore,  take  this  opinion  from  Gervinus  :  — 

“  The  deity  in  our  bosoms  Shakspeare  has  be¬ 
stowed  with  intentional  distinctness,  even  upon  his 
most  abandoned  villains,  and  that,  too,  when  they 
deny  it.  To  nourish  this  spark,  and  not  to  quench 
it,  is  the  loud  sermon  of  all  his  works.”  (Gervinus, 
Commentaries  on  Shakspeare ,  p.  910.) 

Do  you  say  that,  after  all,  Shakspeare  was  morbid 
on  a  few  points?  Well,  if  he  was,  Lord  Byron 
was  not.  Omitting  Milton,  Schiller,  and  Dante,  and 
Euripides,  Sophocles,  and  iEschylus,  who,  on  the 
subject  of  Conscience,  agree  with  Shakespeare  only 
too  startlingly,  we  will  take  B}rron  as  a  fair  answer 
to  the  question,  whether  other  poets  sustain  the 
prophet  and  philosopher  of  Stratford-on-Avon.  Lord 
Byron  had  guilt  of  which  he  knew  the  extent,  ana 
which  God  has  not  suffered  to  be  known  to  men  at 
large,  and  I  hope  never  will  suffer  to  be  known. 
But  this  poet,  understanding  very  well  that  the 
world  was  listening,  and  that  on  every  sentence  of 
his  concerning  the  moral  sense  and  remorse  a  micro¬ 
scope  would  be  placed  age  after  age,  does  not  hesi¬ 
tate  to  say,  — 

“  Yet  still  there  whispers  the  small  voice  within, 

Heard  through  God’s  silence,  and  o’er  glory’s  din ; 
Whatever  creed  be  taught,  or  land  be  trod, 

Man’s  conscience  is  the  oracle  of  God.” 

Byron,  Island. 


SHAKSPEABE  ON  CONSCIENCE. 


2T9 


“  But  at  sixteen  the  conscience  rarely  gnaws 
So  much  as  when  we  call  our  old  debts  in 
At  sixty  years,  and  draw  the  accounts  of  evil, 

And  find  a  deuced  balance  with  the  Devil.” 

Byron. 

Here  are  the  most  incisive  and  perhaps  the  most 
self-revelatory  words  Byron  ever  wrote  concerning 
Conscience :  — 

“  The  mind  that  broods  o’er  guilty  woes 
Is  like  the  scorpion  girt  by  fire  : 

In  circle  narrowing  as  it  glows, 

The  flames  around  their  captive  close ; 

Till  inly  scorched  by  thousand  throes, 

And  inly  maddening  in  her  ire, 

One  and  sole  relief  she  knows,  — 

The  sting  she  nourished  for  her  foes, 

Whose  venom  never  yet  was  vain, 

Gives  but  one  pang,  and  cures  all  pain, 

She  darts  into  her  desperate  brain. 

So  do  the  dark  in  soul  expire, 

Or  live  like  scorpion  girt  by  fire  ; 

So  writhes  the  mind  remorse  hath  riven, 

Unfit  for  earth,  undoomed  for  heaven  ; 

Darkness  above,  despair  beneath, 

Around  it  flame,  within  it  death.” 

Byron,  Giaouit 


[Applause.] 


V  . 


' 


■'  'I 


. 


■ 


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.  i 

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$2.00. 

The  Andover  Review. 

A  new  Religious  and  Theological  Review,  under  the  edi¬ 
torial  control  of  Egbert  C.  Smyth,  William  J.  Tucker,  J.  W. 
Churchill,  George  Harris,  Edward  Y.  Hincks,  Professors  in 
Andover  Theological  Seminary,  Andover,  Mass.,  and  with  the  coop¬ 
eration  and  active  support  of  all  their  colleagues  in  the  Faculty,  — 
Professors  John  P.  Gulliver,  John  P.  Taylor,  Geo.  F.  Moore, 
and  Frank  E.  Woodruff.  The  first  number  of  the  Review  ap¬ 
peared  in  January,  1884.  Published  monthly.  Terms  $4.00  a  year ; 
single  copies,  35  cents.  Volumes  I.  to  IV.,  8vo,  each,  $2.50.  Vol¬ 
ume  V.  $3.00  ;  covers  for  binding,  50  cents  each. 

Editors  of  the  Andover  Review. 

Progressive  Orthodoxy.  A  Contribution  to  the  Chris¬ 
tian  Interpretation  of  Christian  Doctrines.  By  the  Editors  of 
the  Andover  Review,  Professors  in  Andover  Theological  Semi¬ 
nary.  18mo,  $1.00. 

E.  E.  Beardsley,  D.  D. 

The  History  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  Connecti¬ 
cut.  Fourth  Edition.  2  vols.  8vo,  $6.00. 

Life  and  Correspondence  of  Samuel  Seabury,  D.  D., 
First  Bishop  of  Connecticut,  and  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  the 
United  States.  With  portrait.  8vo,  $4.00. 

Life  and  Correspondence  of  Samuel  Johnson,  D.  D., 
Missionary  of  the  Church  of  England  in  Connecticut,  and  First 
President  of  King’s  College  in  New  York.  With  portrait.  8vo, 
$3.50. 


2 


Religious  Publications  of 

The  Bible. 

Riverside  Parallel  Bible.  Containing  the  Authorized 
and  Revised  Version  of  both  Old  and  New  Testaments  in  Parallel 
Columns.  With  Preface,  References,  Lists  of  Revisers,  and  Read¬ 
ings  preferred  by  the  American  Revisers.  4to,  1742  pages,  $5.00; 
Persian,  $10.00;  morocco,  $15.00. 

John  Brown,  B.  A. 

John  Bunyan  :  His  Life,  Times,  and  Works.  With  Por¬ 
trait  and  Illustrations..  8vo,  $4.50. 

John  Bunyan. 

The  Pilgrim’s  Progress.  New  Popular  Edition ,  from 
new  plates.  With  Archdeacon  Allen’s  Life  of  Bunyan  (illustrated), 
and  Macaulay’s  Essay  on  Bunyan.  62  wood-cuts.  12mo,  $1.00. 

The  Same.  Holiday  Edition ,  comprising,  in  addition  to 
the  Popular  Edition,  a  steel  portrait  of  Bunyan,  and  eight  colored 
plates.  8vo,  full  gilt,  $2.50. 

Francis  J.  Child. 

Poems  of  Religious  Sorrow,  Comfort,  Counsel,  and 
Aspiration.  Collected  and  edited  by  Francis  J.  Child,  Profes¬ 
sor  in  Harvard  University.  New  Edition.  16mo,  $1.25. 

Lydia  Maria  Child. 

Looking  Towards  Sunset.  A  book  for  those  who  are 
approaching  the  evening  of  Life.  12mo,  gilt  top,  $2.50;  half  calf, 
$4.00 ;  levant,  $5.00. 

James  Freeman  Clarke,  D.  D. 

Ten  Great  Religions.  An  Essay  in  Comparative  The¬ 
ology.  With  an  Index.  8vo,  $2.00  ;  half  calf,  $3.25. 

Ten  Great  Religions.  Part  II.  A  Comparison  of  all 
Religions.  8vo,  $2.00 ;  half  calf,  $3.25. 

The  author  has  given  the  world  a  book  unique  iu  design  and  exe¬ 
cution  ;  in  its  attempt  to  trace  the  doctrines  we  have  named  through 

all  religions  the  work  has  no  predecessor.  —  The  Churchman  (New 

York). 

Common-Sense  in  Religion.  A  Series  of  Essays.  12mo, 
$2.00. 

Benjamin  B.  Comegys. 

Thirteen  Weeks  of  Prayers  for  the  Family.  Com¬ 
piled  from  many  sources.  In  one  volume. 


3 


Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co. 

Joseph  Cook. 

Biology.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events.  Nineteenth 
Edition.  3  colored  illustrations. 

Transcendentalism.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events. 
Orthodoxy.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events. 
Conscience.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events. 
Heredity.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events. 
Marriage.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events. 

Labor.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events. 

Socialism.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events. 
Occident.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events. 

Orient.  With  Preludes  on  Current  Events.  With  Por¬ 
trait.  (A  new  volume.) 

Each  volume,  12mo,  $1.50. 

Mr.  Cook  did  not  take  up  the  work  he  has  accomplished  as  a  trade 
or  by  accident,  or  from  impulse ;  but  for  years  he  had  been  preparing 
for  it,  and  prepared  for  it  by  an  overruling  guidance.  .  .  .  He  light¬ 
ens  and  thunders,  throwing  a  vivid  light  on  a  topic  by  an  expression 
or  comparison,  or  striking  a  presumptuous  error  as  by  a  bolt  from 
heaven. — James  McCosh,  D.  D. 

Rev.  M.  Creighton. 

History  of  the  Papacy  during  the  Period  of  the 
Reformation.  Vol.  I.  The  Great  Schism  —  The  Council  of 
Constance,  1378-1418.  Vol.  II.  The  Council  of  Basel  —  The 
Papal  Restoration,  1418-1464.  2  vols.  8vo,  $10.00. 

Thomas  De  Quincey. 

Essays  on  Christianity,  Paganism,  and  Superstition. 

12mo,  $1.50. 

The  Dhammapada. 

Texts  from  the  Buddhist  Canon,  commonly  known  as 
Dhammapada,  with  accompanying  Narratives.  Translated  from 
the  Chinese  by  Samuel  Beal,  Professor  of  Chinese,  University 
College,  London.  8vo,  gilt  top,  $2.50. 

Professor  J.  L.  Diman. 

The  Theistic  Argument  as  Affeoted  by  Recent 
Theories.  Edited  by  Professor  George  P.  Fisher.  Crown 
8vo,  $2.00. 

Orations  and  Essays,  with  Selected  Parish  Sermons. 
A  Memorial  Volume,  with  a  portrait.  8vo,  gilt  top,  $2.50. 


4 


Religious  Publications  of 

Joseph  Edkins,  D.  D. 

Chinese  Buddhism.  A  volume  of  Sketches,  Historical, 

Descriptive,  and  Critical.  8vo,  gilt  top,  $4.50. 

Hugh  Davey  Evans,  LL.  D. 

A  Treatise  on  the  Christian  Doctrine  of  Marriage. 
With  a  Biographical  Sketch  of  the  Author,  and  an  Appendix  con¬ 
taining  Bishop  Andrewes’  “  Discourse  against  Second  Marriage,” 
etc.  12mo,  $1.50. 

Ludwig  Feuerbach. 

The  Essence  of  Christianity.  Translated  from  the 
Second  German  Edition  by  Marian  Evans  (George  Eliot).  8vo, 
gilt  top,  $3.00. 

John  Fiske. 

The  Destiny  of  Man,  viewed  in  the  Light  of  his 
Origin.  16mo,  $1.00. 

The  Unseen  World,  and  other  Essays.  12mo,  $2.00, 

The  Idea  of  God  as  affected  by  Modern  Knowl¬ 
edge.  A  Sequel  to  “  The  Destiny  of  Man.”  16mo,  $1.00. 

Octavius  Brooks  Frothingham. 

The  Life  of  William  Henry  Channing.  By  Octa¬ 
vius  Brooks  Frothingham,  author  of  “  George  Ripley,”  “  Tran¬ 
scendentalism  in  New  England,”  etc.  With  a  fine  portrait.  Crown 
8  vo. 

William  H.  Furness,  D.  D. 

Verses  ;  Translations  and  Hymns.  16mo,  illuminated 

vellum,  $1.25. 

The  Story  of  the  Resurrection  Told  Once  More. 

With  Remarks  upon  the  Character  of  Jesus  and  the  Historical 
Claims  of  the  Four  Gospels,  and  a  Word  upon  Prayer.  New  Edi¬ 
tion,  with  Additions.  16mo,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

Washington  Gladden. 

The  Lord's  Prayer.  Seven  Essays  on  the  Meaning  and 
Spirit  of  this  universal  Prayer.  New  Edition.  16mo,  gilt  top, 
$1.00. 

Applied  Christianity.  Uniform  with  “  The  Lord’s 
Prayer.”  16mo,  $1.25. 

Contents  :  Christianity  and  Wealth  ;  Is  Labor  a  Commodity 
The  Strength  and  Weakness  of  Socialism  ;  Is  it  Peace  or  War  ?  The 
Laborers  and  the  Churches  ;  Three  Dangers  ;  Christianity  and  Social 
Science;  Christianity  and  Popular  Amusement;  Christianity  and 
Popular  Education. 


5 


Houghton ,  Mifflin  &  Co. 

George  S.  Gray. 

Eight  Studies  of  the  Lord’s  Day.  12mo,  $1.50. 

George  Zabriskie  Gray. 

The  Crusade  of  the  Children  in  the  XHIth  Century. 
12mo,  $1.50. 

Husband  and  Wife;  or,  The  Theory  of  Marriage  and  its 
Consequences.  With  an  Introduction  by  the  Rt.  Rev.  F.  D.  Hun¬ 
tington,  D.  D.  New  Edition,  revised,  16mo,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

F.  W.  Gunsaulus. 

The  Transfiguration  of  Christ.  16mo,  $1.25. 

R.  P.  Hallowell. 

The  Quaker  Invasion  of  Massachusetts.  1 6mo,  $1.25. 

A  history  of  the  persecution  of  the  Quakers  in  Massachusetts. 

George  Herbert  and  Henry  Vaughan. 

The  Poetical  Works  of  George  Herbert.  With  a 
Memoir  and  Portrait  of  the  Author,  and  Notes  by  Rev.  Robert 
Aris  Willmott.  Also,  the  Sacred  Poems  and  Private  Ejacula¬ 
tions  of  Henry  Vaughan,  with  a  Memoir  by  Rev.  F.  Lyte. 
Crown  8vo,  gilt  top,  $1.50;  half  calf,  $3.00. 

Favorite  Poems  from  the  Works  of  George  Her¬ 
bert.  Together  with  Poems  by  Collins,  Dryden,  Marvell, 
and  Herrick.  Illustrated.  In  “  Modern  Classics,”  No.  25.  32mo, 
orange  edges,  75  cents. 

Rev.  S.  E.  Herrick. 

Some  Heretics  of  Yesterday.  Crown  8vo,  $1.50. 

Contents  :  Tauler  and  the  Mystics  ;  Wicklif ;  John  Hus ;  Savona¬ 
rola  ;  Latimer ;  Cranmer ;  Melancthon ;  Knox ;  Calvin  ;  Coligny  ; 
William  Brewster;  John  Wesley. 

Thomas  Hughes. 

The  Manliness  of  Christ.  16mo,  $1.00;  paper  covers, 
25  cents. 

It  is  shown  with  great  force  that  the  “  Life  of  Christ  ”  was  not  only 
a  manly  life,  but  the  manly  life  of  all  history.  — Examiner  and  Chron¬ 
icle  (New  York). 

Hymns  of  the  Ages. 

Hymns  of  the  Ages.  First,  Second,  and  Third  Series. 
Each  in  one  volume,  illustrated  with  steel  vignette,  12mo,  $1.50 
each ;  half  calf,  $8.25  a  set. 


6 


Religious  Publications  of 

Henry  James: 

The  Secret  of  Swedenborg.  Being  an  Elucidation  of 
his  Doctrine  of  the  Divine  Natural  Humanity.  8vo,  $2.50. 

We  admire  the  metaphysical  acuteness,  the  logical  power,  and  the 
singular  literary  force  of  the  book,  which  is  also  remarkable  as  car¬ 
rying  into  theological  writing  something  besides  the  hard  words  of 
secular  dispute,  and  as  presenting  to  the  world  the  great  questions 
of  theology  in  something  beside  a  Sabbath-day  dress.  —  Atlantic 
Monthly. 

Society  the  Redeemed  Form  of  Man,  and  the  Ear¬ 
nest  of  God’s  Omnipotence  in  Human  Nature.  Affirmed  in 
Letters  to  a  Friend.  8vo,  $2.00. 

Samuel  Johnson. 

Oriental  Religions,  and  their  Relation  to  Univer¬ 
sal  Religion.  By  Samuel  Johnson. 

India.  8vo,  810  pages,  $5.00. 

Samuel  Johnson’s  remarkable  work  is  devoted  wholly  to  the  reli¬ 
gions  and  civilization  of  India,  is  the  result  of  twenty  years’  stinty 
and  reflection  by  one  of  the  soundest  scholars  and  most  acute  think¬ 
ers  of  New  England,  and  must  be  treated  with  all  respect,  whether 
we  consider  its  thoroughness,  its  logical  reasoning,  or  the  conclusion  — 
unacceptable  to  the  majority,  no  doubt  —  at  which  it  arrives.  —  Re¬ 
publican  (Springfield). 

China.  8vo,  1000  pages,  $5.00. 

Altogether  the  work  of  Mr.  Johnson  is  an  extraordinarily  rich 
mine  of  reliable  and  far-reaching  information  on  all  literary  subjects 
connected  with  China.  .  .  .  He  decidedly  impresses  us  as  an  author¬ 
ity  on  Chinese  subjects.  —  E.  J.  Eitel,  Ph.  D.,  Editor  of  The  China 
Review  (Hong  Ivong). 

Persia.  8vo,  829  pages,  $5.00.  The  set,  3  vols.  half 

calf,  $20.00. 

Lectures,  Essays,  and  Sermons.  With  a  portrait,  and 
Memoir  by  Rev.  Samuel  Longfellow.  Crown  8vo,  gilt  top, 
$1.75. 

This  volume  contains,  in  addition  to  a  Memoir  of  Mr.  Johnson  and 
other  articles,  Sermons  on  the  Law  of  the  Blessed  Life,  Gain  in  Loss, 
The  Search  for  God,  Fate,  Living  by  Faith,  The  Duty  of  Delight, 
and  Transcendentalism. 

Thomas  Starr  King. 

Christianity  and  Humanity.  Sermons.  Edited,  with 
a  Memoir,  by  Edwin  P.  Whipple.  With  steel  portrait.  16mo, 
$2.00. 


7 


Houghton ,  Mifflin  &  Co, 

The  Koran. 

Selections  from  the  Koran.  By  Edward  William 
Lane.  Second  Edition,  revised  and  enlarged,  with  an  Introduction 
by  Stanley  Lane  Poole.  8vo,  gilt  top,  $3.50. 

See  Wherry  (Rev.  E.  M.). 

Alvan  Lamson,  D.  D. 

TnE  Church  of  the  First  Three  Centuries  ;  or,  No¬ 
tices  of  the  Lives  and  Opinions  of  the  Early  Fathers,  with  special 
reference  to  the  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity  ;  illustrating  its  late  origin 
and  gradual  formation.  Revised  and  enlarged  edition.  8vo,  $2.50. 

Lucy  Larcom. 

Breathings  of  the  Better  Life.  “  Little  Classic  ” 

style.  18mo,  $1.25;  half  calf,  $2.50. 

A  book  of  choice  selections  from  the  best  religious  writers  of  all 
times. 

Beckonings  for  Every  Day.  A  Calendar  of  Thought. 
Selected  and  edited  by  Lucy  Larcom,  editor  of  “  Breathings  of  the 
Better  Life/'  etc.  1 6mo. 

Henry  C.  Lea. 

Sacerdotal  Celibacy  in  the  Christian  Church. 
Second  Edition,  considerably  enlarged.  8vo,  $4.50. 

One  of  the  most  valuable  works  that  America  has  produced.  —  W. 
E.  H.  Leck  y,  in  History  of  European  Morals. 

Samuel  Longfellow  and  Samuel  Johnson. 

Hymns  of  the  Spirit.  16mo,  roan,  $1.25. 

A  collection  of  remarkable  excellence. 

W.  A.  McVickar,  D.  D. 

Life  of  the  Rev.  John  McVickar,  S.  T.  D.  With  por¬ 
trait.  Crown  8vo,  $2.00. 

William  Mountford. 

Euthanasy;  or,  Happy  Talk  towards  the  End  of  Life. 
New  Edition,  12mo,  gilt  top,  $2.00. 

Rev.  T.  Mozley. 

Reminiscences,  chiefly  of  Oriel  College  and  the  Oxford 
Movement.  2  vols.  16mo,  $3.00  ;  half  calf,  $5.00. 

Many  before  now  —  Oakley,  Froude,  Kennard,  not  to  mention 
Newman  himself  —  have  contributed  to  the  story  of  the  Tractarian 


8 


Religious  Publications  of 

Movement.  None  of  these,  not  even  the  famous  Apologia,  will  com¬ 
pare  with  the  volumes  now  before  us  in  respect  to  minute  fullness, 
close  personal  observation,  and  characteristic  touches.  —  Professor 
Pattison,  in  The  Academy  (London). 

Elisha  Mulford,  LL.  D. 

The  Republic  of  God.  8vo,  $2.00. 

A  book  which  will  not  be  mastered  by  hasty  reading,  nor  by  a  cool, 
scientific  dissection.  We  do  not  remember  that  this  country  has 
lately  produced  a  speculative  work  of  more  originality  and  force.  .  .  . 
The  book  is  a  noble  one  —  broad-minded,  deep,  breathing  forth  an 
ever-present  consciousness  of  things  unseen.  It  is  a  mental  and  moral 
tonic  which  might  do  us  all  good.  —  The  Critic  (New  York). 

No  book  on  the  statement  of  the  great  truths  of  Christianity,  at 
once  so  fresh,  so  clear,  so  fundamental,  and  so  fully  grasping  and 
solving  the  religious  problems  of  our  time,  has  yet  been  written  by 
any  American.  —  Advertiser  (Boston). 

It  is  the  most  important  contribution  to  theological  literature  thus 
far  made  by  any  American  writer.  —  The  Churchman  (New  York). 

Rev.  T.  T.  M unger. 

The  Freedom  of  Faith.  Sermons.  16mo,  $1.50. 

Contents  :  Prefatory  Essay  :  The  New  Theology  ;  On  Reception 
of  New  Truth ;  God  our  Shield ;  God  our  Reward ;  Love  to  the 
Christ  as  a  Person ;  The  Christ's  Pity ;  The  Christ  as  a  Preacher ; 
Land-Tenure;  Moral  Environment;  Immortality  and  Science;  Im¬ 
mortality  and  Nature ;  Immortality  as  Taught  by  the  Christ ;  The 
Christ’s  Treatment  of  Death ;  The  Resurrection  from  the  Dead ; 
The  Method  of  Penalty;  Judgment;  Life  a  Gain;  Things  to  be 
Awaited. 

On  the  Threshold.  Familiar  Lectures  to  young  peo¬ 
ple  on  Purpose,  Friends  and  Companions,  Manners,  Thrift,  Self- 
Reliance,  etc.  16mo,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

Lamps  and  Paths.  Sermons  for  Children.  16mo,  $1.00. 

J.  A.  W.  Neander. 

General  History  of  the  Christian  Religion  and 
Church.  Translated  from  the  German  by  Rev.  Joseph  Torrey, 
Professor  in  the  University  of  Vermont.  With  an  Index  volume. 
The  set,  with  Index,  6  vols.,  $20.00.  Index  volume,  separate,  $3.00. 
“Neander’s  Church  History”  is  one  of  the  most  profound,  care¬ 
fully  considered,  deeply  philosophized,  candid,  truly  liberal,  and  in¬ 
dependent  historical  works  that  have  ever  been  written.  In  all 
these  respects  it  stands  head  and  shoulders  above  almost  any  other 
church  history  in  existence.  —  Professor  Calvin  E.  Stowe,  Andover, 
Mass. 


9 


Houghton ,  Mifflin  &  Co. 

Illustrated  New  Testament. 

The  New  Testament  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ.  With  engravings  on  wood  from  designs  of  Fra 
Angelico,  Pietro  Perugino,  Francesco  Francia,  Lorenzo  di  Credi, 
Fra  Bartolommeo,  Titian,  Raphael,  Gaudenzio  Ferrari,  Daniele  di 
Yolterra,  and  others.  Royal  4to,  full  gilt,  540  pages,  $10.00  ;  full 
morocco,  $20.00;  levant,  $25.00. 

Timothy  Otis  Paine,  LL.  D. 

Solomon’s  Temple  and  Capitol,  Ark  of  the  Flood  and 
Tabernacle ;  or,  The  Holy  Houses  of  the  Hebrew,  Chaldee,  Syriac, 
Samaritan,  Septuagint,  Coptic,  and  Itala  Scriptures,  Josephus, 
Talmud,  and  Rabbis.  With  42  full-page  Plates  and  120  Text- 
Cuts,  from  drawings  by  the  author.  In  four  parts,  each  $5.00. 

(Sold  by  subscription.) 

Blaise  Pascal. 

Thoughts,  Letters,  and  Opuscules.  Translated  from 
the  French  by  O.  W.  Wight,  A.  M.,  with  Introductory  Notices 
and  Notes.  12mo,  $2.25. 

Provincial  Letters.  A  new  Translation,  with  Histori¬ 
cal  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  Rev.  Thomas  McCrie,  preceded 
by  a  Life  of  Pascal,  a  Critical  Essay,  and  a  Biographical  Notice. 
12mo,  $2.25;  the  set,  2  vols.  half  calf,  $7.00. 

Peep  of  Day  Series. 

Peep  of  Day  Series.  Comprising  “  The  Peep  of  Day,” 
“Precept  upon  Precept,”  and  “Line  upon  Line.”  3  vols.  16mo, 
each  50  cents  ;  the  set,  $1.50. 

Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps. 

The  Gates  Ajar.  16mo,  $1.50. 

Beyond  the  Gates.  16mo,  $1.25. 

Prayers  of  the  Ages. 

Prayers  of  the  Ages.  Compiled  by  Caroline  S. 
Wiiitmarsh,  one  of  the  editors  of  “  Hymns  of  the  Ages.”  16mo, 
$1.50. 

Sampson  Reed. 

Observations  on  the  Growth  of  the  Mind.  New 
Edition.  With  Biographical  Sketch  of  the  Author  by  Rev.  James 
Reed,  and  a  portrait.  16mo. 


10 


Religions  Publications  of 
E.  Reuss. 

History  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures  of  the  New  Tes¬ 
tament.  By  Eduard  (Wilhelm  Eugen)  Reuss,  Professor  Ordi- 
narius  in  the  Evangelical  Theological  Faculty  of  the  Emperor 
William’s  University,  Strassburg,  Germany.  Translated,  with  nu¬ 
merous  Bibliographical  Additions,  by  Edward  L.  Houghton, 
A.  M.  2  vols.  8vo,  $5.00. 

Edward  Robinson,  D.  D.,  LL.  D. 

Harmony  of  the  Four  Gospels,  in  Greek.  According 
to  the  Text  of  Hahn.  By  Edward  Robinson,  O.  D.,  LL.  D., 
Professor  of  Biblical  Literature  in  the  Union  Theological  Seminary, 
New  York.  With  Notes.  New  Edition.  Revised  by  M.  B.  Rid¬ 
dle,  Professor  in  the  Hartford  Theological  Seminary.  8vo,  $2.00- 

Harmony  of  the  Four  Gospels,  in  Plnglish.  Accord¬ 
ing  to  the  Common  Version.  With  Notes.  12mo,  75  cents. 

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